


When Nothing Remains

by VigoGrimborne



Series: The IHTR Universe [2]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: A F/M Pairing that Cannot be Listed Without Spoiling Something, Action/Adventure, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, F/M, Sequel, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 209,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24614590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VigoGrimborne/pseuds/VigoGrimborne
Summary: A man and dragon, merged into a single mind, soul scarred by the loss of loved ones. Hiccup, known as Ember to the only remaining branch of family either side of him has. The results of an attack decades ago begins a new and even more traumatizing series of events, one that might destroy him. Sequel to Innocent Hopes, Twisted Realities. A very strong T rating.
Series: The IHTR Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779493
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

**WARNING: If you are a new reader, know that this is a sequel. Read _Innocent Hopes, Twisted Realities_ first if you want to know what in the world is up with Hiccup, who Ember, Beryl, Spark, Herb, and Thorn are, or why we care. **

**Now that that's out of the way, a note to all readers. This is a dark story. In accordance to that, important character death is entirely possible. Stoick and Stormfly are already gone, along with Mildew though no one cares about him. I can promise a happy ending, simply because I don't think I have it in me to write true tragedy, but that doesn't mean everyone will live to see it, or that everyone will be perfectly content by the end.**

**Finally, this story will update weekly, on the same schedule IHTR followed. It is also substantially longer than IHTR, and the minimum chapter length is slightly higher than any of my other stories to date. It is not categorized as Horror because …**

**I really can't figure out what to call this. Not Horror, not Crime, and other than that, I've got nothing. So I put Family and Adventure because those are the only constants. A little (or a lot) of everything else is in here somewhere.**

The breeze gently brushed the forest, sending ripples through the leaves below Herb, a wave in the green sea of verdant trees below. It fit his coloring, a dark green to contrast the pale light green of his scales. The pale green Night Fury was carrying his latest catch, a small deer that had been unfortunate enough to wander almost right in front of him while he was on the trail of more elusive prey. It was sufficient if not the best he could find, and he wanted to return to his mate as quickly as possible.

He sighed, recalling the reason he was willing to settle for lesser prey. Thorn had not taken Ember's departure well, though the first couple of season cycles had seemed to soothe her worry. But time was passing, so much time. Herb knew in his mind that Ember would likely be gone for many seasons to come, but his heart worried despite reason. So it was with Thorn, but she was less able to bear it.

He disliked leaving her alone, though she had never hinted that it bothered her. Maybe that was his issue, his way of dealing with the departure of the only offspring they'd ever produced.

Another worry, but one dulled by acceptance. It was the way of things for dragons to have many eggs over the seasons, but he and Thorn had only ever produced one, and not for lack of trying. Season-cycles of failure had been offset by one success, but now that failure was back, filling in the void left by their now-grown son departing to find adventure and a mate. Time dulled the pain of that, but it still hurt.

He sighted the peninsula on which they made their home, knowing that the rocky cave he and his mate inhabited would be visible once he circled around, at the moment hidden by the rock formations that characterized their home, sea stacks on land, with soft grass between the towering pillars. It was beautiful in a wild way, but lonely now. He'd gotten used to there being two dragons around, not just one. Even after all this time, he still noticed Ember's absence.

Flying nearer, Herb repeated the often-thought wish in his head. That Ember would find a mate and return if only to reassure them both that he was alive and happy.

Herb could see Thorn, asleep on top of one of the rock formations, basking in the sun. Her grey scales seemed to absorb the light. He set down next to her, dropping the small deer in front of her nose.

She slowly opened her eyes, purring at him. "Thank you. Have you already eaten?" She eyed the deer.

Herb grunted in amusement. "No, but I was impatient."

"As is normal." She replied. "Take some."

"I was going to fish soon, so you can have all of it." Herb stretched, working out a pain in his neck that sometimes occurred for no reason. He was not old, not by dragon standards, but neither of them was young. Enough decades of experience inevitably began to leave marks, little pains that signified the passage of time.

"We both know I will be fishing with you," she admonished. "I like the attention, but what has got you so worried?"

"The usual," he replied wearily. "As always."

"Yes." Thorn agreed. "By the way..."

Herb glanced over at her. "What?"

"Now is a good time of the moon-cycle," she remarked slyly. "Maybe the hundredth time is the charm?"

Herb chuckled. "An egg would be a nice change of pace." He kept the pain out of his voice. After ten season cycles of failure, the hope was fading again. Still...

"Do not tire yourself out fishing." She decided. "I will be along in a few minutes."

Herb launched himself back into the air, curving around out to sea, quickly moving out of sight of the rock formations. He flew over to the fishing spot, a place some distance from the land, three short rock formations barely breaking the water to form a crescent in the middle of the ocean. There was always fish to be found there, and its reliability made up for the distance from home.

He began scanning the water, energized by his mate's suggestion. That, at least, was not the problem. They tried regularly, but nothing ever came of it. Maybe this time would be-

A shadow passed under the water. What was that? He looked closer, wondering where what had to be a tightly-packed school of fish could have gone.

They lived in isolation, and the skills Herb had developed in the wild were dull with lack of use. It took him far too long to realize that the shadow had come from above.

His vision blacked out momentarily from the force of the impact, a sharp pain in his back the only thing that did not falter. Rock met his soft underside, scraping and cutting. He rolled instinctively, tearing his back away from the claws lodged in his flesh, pulling scales away as a consequence.

Snarling filled the air, none of it his. He saw his attacker with a horrible clarity in the moment before pain. A blue akin to that of the sea, deep and striking in its own way. Fey eyes met his, eyes that lacked any empathy whatsoever. There was a challenge there, threat that made his heart seize and mouth curl in the beginnings of a snarl of his own.

Then the moment broke, pain from his injuries intervened, and the blue Night Fury attacked viciously. They tangled for a moment, Herb's skill and knowledge rusty and inaccessible thanks to the agonizing gashes in his back he had already received. A claw raked across his side, a searing pain developed in one of his back legs. He fought like a wild animal, but it wasn't enough.

The end came when a claw he hadn't seen coming tore across his face, a blinding, agonizing pain and light bursting across his gashed eye, feeling like a claw was digging into his mind, agony on a scale he'd never before experienced. He howled, thrashing wildly enough to throw off his torturer. The darkness that came for him was almost a relief.

O-O-O-O-O

Throbbing, flashing pain, bursts of sickly white light visible only in one eye. Herb raised his head wearily, whining at the pain of salt water in his various wounds, the tide lapping at his body, sprawled painfully on the edge of the rocky reef.

Most of his injuries were only moderately serious, harbingers of a few fine scars in the future, but no immediate concern. No, what hurt was his eye. Blinking did not clear the pain, did not return sight. He howled in despair and pain as it became oppressively clear. His eye was damaged beyond use. The world had been shrunk, cut in half.

That Night Fury would pay in blood. But as he shakily returned to his feet, fear clenched his stomach like the bite of a dragon. He knew that look, knew it far too well. The other dragon was not here for him.

Not for him. Thorn!

In a moment of despairing certainty he looked at the sky, fearing the worst and seeing it in the nearly set sun. The day was almost gone, where before it had been young. Time had been lost, time in which Thorn was unaware of the danger, time he was not there to protect her!

He lurched into the sky, ignoring through pure willpower the lancing pains in his side, the throbbing agony of wind over raw flesh where scales had once lain, the pure torture of knowing his eye was gone, or as good as gone. Thorn. He had to get to her.

Flying with one less eye was difficult, flying with injuries painful, but he did both without thought, fear driving him home, to the place where his mate had rested, the perilously exposed rock spire. They had been isolated, had not seen a dragon in many seasons. It was safe here, or had seemed safe.

His heart dropped and shattered in his chest as the spire came into view, the grey mass on top of it lying listless and sad, alone but not unharmed. Signs of a struggle were clear, the small gashes in her back, the scratches of useless claws on the rock. Small tears on the bones of her wings, where the pebbles of the spire had been ground into her, a sense of pain and humiliation clear in the air.

He dropped beside her, collapsing as the ground met his feet, feeling both the pain and the despair anew as he saw his mate's listless eyes, defeated expression as haunting as it was sad. She lurched to her feet at the sound of his landing, panic guiding her to run away, to the edge of the spire.

"Thorn," he cried out, desperate. "It is only me!"

She stopped, chest and wings heaving, breath fast and erratic. Then she slowly curled up into a tight circle where she stood, on the edge of the rock, not looking at him.

He laboriously made his way over, whining when she flinched at his approach. "Thorn."

She finally turned, properly looking at him. What she saw elicited a heart-wrenchingly defeated moan. He moved closer, nuzzling her tenderly.

"I could not..." She started, almost crying.

"I know." He replied sadly. "Did he..?"

"Yes."

"It does not matter," Herb said decisively. "We must get to safety. He may not be gone." He would die to protect Thorn, to prevent a repeat of the terrible violation she had suffered as he lay bleeding and unconscious on the rocks. But this place, it was too open by far.

Thorn nodded dully, standing with a moan. She followed him as he dropped to the ground, both making their way to a secondary cave, one they did not normally enter because it was too narrow and deep to be useful, twisted and claustrophobic.

Or in this case, secure and comforting in its confines, a place where one could not be snuck up on, could not be surprised. Herb followed Thorn in, both making their way to the very back.

If the monstrous Night Fury returned, they would be cornered. That did not bother Herb in the slightest. He would die before the Fury got past him, so being cornered simply meant he would have the best chance of stopping the attacker first; the least chance of being killed by another ambush.

Thorn curled into an even smaller ball behind him, weeping softly in a way only dragons could, a keening whine so soft it did not echo, a sound that made Herb want to tear the world asunder and destroy the one who had hurt his mate so thoroughly, to destroy so terribly that not even bones would remain.

He turned his head sideways, his good eye looking outwards in defense, the sightless bad eye pointing to the one he so wanted to comfort. He shuffled sideways, closing the small gap between them with his tail and wing, covering his mate protectively.

Thorn was not a weakling, not one who always needed protecting. But at the moment, she had suffered far worse than he had, and it made him feel terrible to know that his eye was not the most grievous wound that had been suffered.

Thorn huddled against his side, her keening slowly tapering off as grief gave way to exhaustion brought on by trauma.

O-O-O-O-O

Time passed, and Herb grew hungry as the sunlight grew, the sun rising outside. That was easily ignored. Hunger would be a welcome relief from the terrible images his mind could not help but imagine, the implied atrocities committed in his absence against his mate. The how bothered him, not the why. He knew why. They were rare enough, rare among the hordes of dragons who would fight each other for mates, trick and steal, but they did exist, those few who saw no point in anything but taking what they wanted. They were reviled by dragons everywhere, but it was very hard to find them when they did not want to be found, and there was no outward marking of vile intentions.

One of the many reasons he and his mate had chosen to settle down here, here so far from any type of intelligent life. There were no settlements of No-scaled-not-prey for many days flight, and even their odd wooden contraptions did not sail past this peninsula. Likewise, there were no dragons in the area, and he had deemed this place safe.

Safe. The idea was laughable now, though the vile Night Fury had not returned yet.

It was possible, his terrible deed done, that the Night Fury would be gone for good. That kind of dragon by necessity did not stay in one place very long, searching out new victims and dragons who did not know what they were.

Herb was not going to hope yet. Hope had no place in this terrible situation. But for the moment, he could relax his guard. There would be no way for the attacker to approach quietly, and the light still visible from outside the cave would dim as another body blocked it, an unavoidable warning that did not require his full attention to monitor.

He turned, very carefully winding himself around Thorn's curled-up circle, holding her close to comfort her. She had been asleep when he started, but as he set his head down next to her, she woke with a start.

"Safe." Herb murmured to her. "Just me." It did not hurt him that she looked around wildly, not believing. He would have done the same in her place.

"I do not feel safe," Thorn whined.

"But you are," Herb replied licking the back of her head. "For now, we are both safe. We will know if that changes, have warning."

"No way for him to surprise us?" Thorn inquired quietly.

"None," Herb nuzzled the back of Thorn's neck, "so we are safe. You should sleep more."

"I do not want to dream." Was Thorn's whined response.

"Then speak. Where are your injuries?" He had seen the scratches and marks from the struggle. Those wounds were superficial compared to his own, but his did not matter.

Thorn seemed to recover some of her spirit. "No, I want to see yours." She declared, unwinding and stepping back. "My hurts are small or," she sniffed, "not treatable. Yours are bad."

Herb complied without complaint, holding in his pained whines as she licked the myriad of wounds he had suffered in that brief and brutal struggle.

Finally, she came to the terrible gash across his face. She inhaled, whining softly.

"I know it cannot be fixed," Herb admitted sadly. "How bad?"

"Your eye has a cut across it. It does not focus." Thorn replied. "Can you see with it?"

"No. I can move it," he demonstrated, "but I cannot see."

"I..." Thorn licked the rest of the wound, the gash above and below the eye. "Does it hurt, the eye?"

"Yes. But there is nothing you can do for that." Herb turned, looking directly at Thorn with his good eye. "Truly, I can manage. I still have this one."

"You should have both!" Thorn objected angrily. Then she wilted, anger gone in an instant. "Both." She repeated in a soft, defeated tone.

"I know." Herb winced, knowing what needed to be asked. "You are still willing to be with me?"

He had to hide a small purr as Thorn growled at him. "Of course! Why would you ask?!" That was one way to get her mind off of other things.

"Then you know I will stay with you." He admonished. Dragon culture was stupid, in some ways, and though they both had left most of it behind, he had to be sure Thorn wasn't carrying any worries about that. The whole idea of leaving a mate who was proven weak was a terrible and cruel practice, especially when living in groups, where the other dragons would force the issue, regardless of what the two dragons in question wanted. Another reason they lived in isolation. Too much of their lives could be determined by others in a pack.

"Really?" Thorn whined.

Herb growled angrily. "We agreed to leave behind those stupid, rotten customs. This is no different." He had hoped she would have forgotten entirely.

"Right." Thorn warbled softly. "We did."

"We are fine." Herb decided. "Now, the next problem." He growled and rolled his wing shoulders. "Finding that monster and tearing him limb from limb. I will hold him down, and you can-"

"No!" Thorn whined. "If he has left, do not go after him!" She nuzzled Herb. "I cannot bear to see you hurt again."

"He must pay." Herb objected.

"We agreed to leave those customs behind," Thorn repeated his words, "and he will pay. Someone will kill him, likely soon if he tries that with a dragon in a pack. It does not have to be you, my injured mate."

"I was not speaking from custom," Herb grumbled. "But you are right."

"Is he gone?" Thorn asked.

"I will check." Herb flicked his ears before Thorn could object, "carefully."

He snuck out of the cave, using every sense at his disposal to discern anything unusual. Nothing. Then he flew, laboriously checking the surrounding area, the edges of the forest. Still nothing.

There was one more way to ensure Thorn's safety. "Forgive me for lying." He said to the empty air. Then he drew in as much air as he could, landing on the stone pillar that was still marked with the signs of Thorn's struggle.

A blast of sound ripped out of his throat, a screech that had only one meaning. Challenge. He himself could and would ignore such a summons, but any dragon who had not already cast off the trappings of custom would be honor-bound to respond if they knew they were the one being challenged.

The noise echoed, and once it faded he repeated it. Again, as the sound reverberated around him. Nothing. The attacker, the blue Night Fury, was truly gone.

Of course, now he had to explain himself to a very angry Thorn, who had definitely heard him. She dropped onto the pillar angrily, looking around for a full minute to ensure they were still alone.

"You said you would be careful!" She screeched at him, her voice one part anger and one part fear.

"I had to be sure," was his only explanation. "I am sorry."

"If he was still here..."

"I would fight until you arrived and fouled his flight from behind, and we would kill him together," Herb replied.

"Tell me next time." Thorn looked around. "And I want this pillar gone."

Herb looked down at the sturdy rock under his paws. At the scrapes and small bloodstains. He growled. "Good idea."

The sounds of fiery blasts impacting rock echoed shortly thereafter drowned out by the crash of a rock pillar collapsing and smashing into the ground below. If only the other evidence of the attack could be so easily removed.

O-O-O-O-O

Herb's eye never regained its sight in the following weeks. That was the least of his problems. He was not a dragon of custom, had thrown it off many seasons ago. Neither was Thorn. So he had not left his mate after the attack and did not consider her weak. It had been the right thing to do, the only thing he would even consider doing. This new problem was not so clear-cut.

Thorn cautiously nudged the egg she had just laid, looking up at Herb. "Now what?" Her voice shook.

Herb shook his head wordlessly, still trying to reconcile two opposing views of the situation. Part of him wanted to smash it, to deny that monster who attacked his mate any offspring. That was custom, that was right to any other dragon, though it would be truly rare for the mate of the dragon attacked to still be in a position to dispose of the egg of the attacker. Regardless, it was clear. The egg should not exist.

He did not give much weight to custom on its own, but when half of his own mind agreed?

The other half stopped him from voicing that opinion. The part of him that argued against killing an unhatched dragon, regardless of origin. The part that told him he had hoped for an egg, and now was considering breaking one, likely the only one Thorn would have.

Because now it was painfully clear. Whatever was stopping them from having eggs together, the fault lay on his shoulders. He was the reason they had only managed one egg to this point. He had told Thorn his suspicion, and she had agreed that it was a possibility, though she had assured him she didn't care if that was true. Who was he to deny Thorn another egg, regardless of how it had been acquired? Especially when she had not chosen to be attacked, had not been unfaithful. When she had chosen him over having more children, despite wanting more.

Mind versus instinct.

"I think..." Herb struggled with himself. "I think I want to hear what you think," he decided.

"You will not..." Thorn looked up. "I do not know?" She seemed to be having just as much trouble. "I think..."

"Yes?" He encouraged her.

"We should keep it." Thorn began to speak rapidly, giving Herb no time to interrupt. "It is not its fault how it was created, we always wanted another egg, and if we had just found it somewhere without a Sire or Dam we would raise it anyway, so why not?! We cannot just condemn it! I do not like how this happened, but we should make the best of it?" Then she whined. "But I cannot hurt you like that."

Herb made up his mind. "You would not hurt me." He stepped closer, gently nudging the egg. "It is not mine. I will not let that stop me from being its Sire. You are its Dam, therefore I am its Sire. Regardless of the circumstances."

"You would truly..?"

"We left custom behind a long time ago. Our kind is fading. The better question is, why would I not?" Herb hummed comfortingly. "Help me not resent him or her, help me treat them as my own. I cannot fight my instincts alone."

"Never alone." Thorn agreed. "What will we tell them?" She pointed at the egg. "He or she will not remember this conversation well enough to understand, if they can hear at all yet, but in the future what will we say?"

"Why must we tell them?" Herb asked carefully. "It would only hurt to know the truth."

"I suppose." Thorn agreed, though her voice was uncertain.

O-O-O-O-O

It was hard, at times, for Herb to fight the instinct to destroy his enemy's egg. The impulse sickened him, drove him away. He had never had to fight true instinct before. Before, it had always been arbitrary custom, imposed and enforced by others, not something ingrained in his own mind.

But with Thorn's help, he mastered it, brought that terrible urge to heel and locked it away, not letting it influence him. He spent time in the cave, if not too close to the egg, not fully trusting himself. He and Thorn tended to it as they had Ember's egg, speaking to and around it as much as possible.

That time helped heal Thorn's mind, helped her get past the trauma of the attack. She recovered mentally and physically. Herb did as well, though his eye never regained its sight.

The day came, deep in winter's grasp, when the egg began to hatch. Herb watched with Thorn, knowing and subduing that terrible instinct, hoping that the sight of the one he was determined to think of as his own would on its own destroy the instinct totally.

That was not to be. When the hatchling broke the shell, he had to subdue a growl, hating himself the entire time.

She was a dark blue, but a blue that faded into grey at the edges of her wings, her ears, along her tail and out in streaks. She was beautiful, mottled in a way he had truly never seen before, but she looked like what she really was. The offspring of Thorn and that monster of a Night Fury. Not his.

Not his. His. He fought himself, balanced on a precipice, one where a fall to instinct would have him kill her.

That brought him back, gave him the strength to resist. Killing a hatchling was wrong, so wrong. No matter its origins, he would never do it.

His. He stuffed that terrible instinct away and greeted the little female dragon as he would his own. She was his. He would not let himself think differently for a moment, lest his instincts break free.

O-O-O-O-O

She grew, learned, began to speak. Thorn named her Storm, after the way her grey and blue mottling evoked the memory of dark storm clouds. Storm was a normal hatchling, rambunctious and playful. It became easier and easier for Herb to forget she was not truly his.

When she began calling him Sire, he laughed happily, for it felt almost true. It was hard to reconcile his hatred for her true Sire and his love for her, but he managed, forcing himself to forget that blue Night Fury in favor of the blue and grey one in front of him. As such, he and Thorn remained happy with Storm.

O-O-O-O-O

Once, Storm asked why she did not look like Herb. The answer was easy, the truth being that Furies only rarely shared the color of either Sire or Dam. Storm had inherited Thorn's grey coloring, but not Herb's green, and the blue was random.

Mostly truth. Better than the whole truth.

O-O-O-O-O

"Sire?" Storm paced in front of a cave entrance. She was young but already mature enough to go out and search for a mate, as her brother Ember had so long ago.

"Yes, Storm?" Herb purred. He had not known she had already returned.

"Can we talk?" Storm motioned for him to follow.

Herb launched into the sky after her, letting her lead the way. Unlike Ember, Storm had come up with a way of searching, a pattern of flight that let her return to her Sire and Dam every couple of seasons. Herb felt vaguely guilty, as it slightly lessened her chances of finding another Fury, and it was clear she did it because she knew he and Thorn would not want her to disappear totally as her brother had.

That was another thing. Ember had never returned, did not know Storm existed. It had been what, forty season cycles now? Storm was more than twenty season-cycles old, had been searching in her own way for many of those. So much time. Herb and Thorn were still not old, but age was beginning to show itself. Furies lived a long time, but not forever. He still had dozens of season cycles to go before old age set in, but the hints of it were starting to be felt.

Storm set down in the wild forest, motioning for Herb to follow. They stood there, surrounded by trees.

Storm began speaking without warning, her voice confused. "I came across a mating grounds, one several dragons had spoken of."

"Anything?" Herb inquired.

"No, no living dragons like us." Storm sighed. "Living, I say, because there was a corpse."

"A corpse?" Herb did not like the sound of that. "What happened?"

"It had been left to rot." Storm still sounded puzzled. "I asked why..."

Because it was custom to burn corpses, Herb knew that and had taught Storm that, though he had taught it as a way other dragons followed, not a rule of life. His daughter would not be forced to follow custom.

"... and they said it was custom to leave the corpses of monsters to rot." She shook her head. "He had apparently attacked a mated pair of our kind a season ago with the intention of violating the female and leaving, but the female cut his throat after her mate had been defeated."

"And did the female leave the male afterward?" Herb asked with a sigh, knowing the answer. Custom, whether or not it was killing an already rare species, would have a female leave a male who proved to be weak.

"No." Storm answered with a sly purr. "They left together before the dragons could even bring it up."

Herb laughed. "Finally, someone else has some common sense!" Then he shook his head. "You know that male would not be happy with you, having lost his mate to custom, so it is all for the better anyway."

"Yes, I know. This was not what confused me," Storm replied, beginning to pace. "I went up to the corpse and took a closer look, intending to, well..." She grimaced. "I was going to relieve myself on it, just to dishonor that monster a little more."

Herb was beginning to feel uneasy, so he didn't comment on his daughter's intentions. "What?"

"He had been blue, and he smelled, under the rot and decay, almost familiar," Storm answered slowly.

He had half been expecting it, but it still hit him as a shock. "How odd," he managed in a monotone.

"Sire, who was he?" Storm shook her head. "An uncle? You never told me you had brothers, and neither did Dam. She only had sisters."

"Not an uncle," Herb admitted.

"Who was he?" Storm repeated.

"I love you." It wasn't an answer. He could not lie to his daughter, not now.

"That is not an answer." Storm voiced what he had already known. She was too sharp not to pick up on it. "My brother is orange, so I know it was not him. Actually..." Her voice trailed off. "The dragons at the mating grounds had not seen it, they had only heard of it, and they did not know the colors of the two he had attacked. But that is not the point."

"Please, do not go down this path," Herb begged. "You do not want to know."

"I have to know." Storm stopped, freezing mid-step. "I have to hear you deny it."

"I will not lie to you." Herb turned away. "I love you as a daughter, Thorn is your Dam. I am your Sire... in all but blood. You know what he had tried to do, why his corpse was left to rot. I am half-blinded by injury taken long ago, an injury I never explained."

"You..." Storm growled. "You lied to me. All these seasons."

"It was not a lie!" Herb could not meet his daughter's eyes. "You know your Dam and I hate custom. Custom would say your egg needed to be destroyed. We did not want you to know other dragons would have rather you died in the egg. You cannot be bothered by what you do not know."

"That is not the whole truth, and you know it!" Storm yelled. "You were going to let me live my life, believing a lie! You must hate me, the daughter of your mate and a monster who attacked her!" She was keening now, a mournful whine that underlaid her next words. "Do not lie, please."

"I killed and _buried_ that instinct the day you hatched!" Herb yelled back. "I love you as my own! You cannot say I do not!"

"You would not have been scared to tell me the truth if you did." Storm shot back. "You did not trust me enough to be confident in my love for you, to tell me the truth when I could deal with it. Maybe then I would not have cared. But finding my true Sire's corpse, finding out he was a monster, and then guessing that you lied?! That hurts more than you telling me voluntarily ever could!"

"I am sorry," Herb whined, hearing the truth in his daughter's words. "I thought it would be better..."

"Did Dam want to tell me?" Storm asked furiously. "Tell me."

"She asked whether we should, and I said no..." Herb admitted, knowing what Storm would think of that.

"And of course she agreed when you said not to!" Storm yelled. "She was already afraid of losing you! This was your decision." She turned away. "Herb, I am going to keep coming back, for Dam's sake. But I cannot..." She whined. "I cannot even look at you right now. I trusted you."

"I love you-"

"It is hard for me to believe that when you did not tell me! You might love me, or you might not, but you do not trust me. I need time." With that, Storm launched into the sky, flying as hard as she could away.

His fault. It was all his fault. Was this the last gasp of that rotten instinct he had believed dead and gone? The subtle urge to deny the existence of the monster at all, to forget that Storm was not his own?

No, it would be too easy to blame instinct. This was his conscious decision and his fault.

O-O-O-O-O

Storm continued to visit, but she would not speak to Herb, only interacting with Thorn, who she still trusted. What hurt the most was that she never again called him Sire, in the rare instances he tried to reconcile. Her response was always the same.

"You do not trust me."

Thorn tried to reason with her a few times, but after Storm left angry, Herb convinced Thorn to stop. It was not worth alienating their daughter entirely.

He would suffer the pain he had brought upon himself. There was no need to make Storm mad at Thorn too.

But Thorn suffered regardless. It broke something inside of her, something subtle, and Herb had no idea how to fix it.

Thus was the state of affairs the day Ember returned, bringing with him two grown sons and a lifetime of his own agonies, along with a secret Herb did not yet know.


	2. Resolve

Ember was different. It was clear to Herb, had been clear the entire day. Some change was to be expected as it had been close to sixty winters since his son had left. He knew his son had found love, had children, somehow lost his mate, and more as the scars that spanned Ember's entire body spoke of trouble beyond that. This much change made sense.

What did not truly make sense was the darkness in his son's eyes, a depth that spoke of more fundamental changes. He did not know what it was, and his son had spoken of events not yet revealed.

But Ember had asked first, had seen Thorn's ever-present distress, and so Herb had told his son what had occurred, the story of a monstrous blue Night Fury and the dragon he considered his own daughter.

His son's expressions as the story unfolded told much of what the orange Fury was thinking, but not all. When Herb reached the end of the tale, the falling out and anger of Storm, it became apparent Ember was holding something back.

"Where is she now?" Ember asked quietly.

"She visits every once in a while. She has grown... distant. I do not blame her." Herb looked down, his dull eye as downcast as his good one. "I cannot blame her."

"I do," Ember growled. "But that can wait. When will my sister next visit?"

"Before the beginning of Winter," Herb replied. "But she is right to be mad. It is my-"

"No." Ember cut him off. "She had a right to be mad, but this is spiteful and hurting both you and Dam. I will not let her continue." He looked off into the distance. "I've forgiven far worse than a well-meaning lie."

"I think I am missing something?" Herb had no idea what his son was referring to.

"Nothing." Ember grinned wolfishly. "And as a confirmation, Flint was the one to end that monster's miserable existence."

His son's mate had killed the monstrous Fury, had nearly been a victim of the same dragon. That was ironic, in a way. "That is for the best."

"Yes, it is," Ember replied seriously. "Sire, I have not told you everything either."

"I expected as much. You have grown, son, and changed in ways I do not truly understand." Herb shifted, settling down. "I suspect you have a story to tell."

Ember seemed to appear uncertain. "Yes, but how much to tell is the question."

"What is important?" Herb inquired. "We do not have quite all night, as I am sure one of your sons will come looking for us sooner or later."

"They both know," Ember answered, pacing almost nervously. "How do I sum this up..? You know No-scaled-not-prey are like us, right?"

"It is what I teach, and why we do not hunt them," Herb replied, wondering why Ember was bringing it up. "Your son has had quite the adventure with them, it seems. Where were you and Spark?" That had felt odd. Beryl had never mentioned his Sire or brother in the telling of that tale.

"To be entirely honest?" Ember met Herb's gaze. "I was dead at the time, and Spark was mentally unwell."

What?

"You are going to have to explain," Herb managed to say.

And Ember did. Quickly, skipping over the time he spent dead, explaining his odd existence as two sets of memory and personality merged together, creating something never before seen. It was insane, ridiculous, and entirely unbelievable.

Right up until Ember seemed to realize Herb could not believe and demonstrated. Blue fire engulfed the orange Night Fury, spreading from his front paws to cover his entire body, before shifting in shape and receding to reveal a No-scaled-not-prey. After that, not believing was no longer an option.

"So..." Herb struggled to put into words the utter insanity of what he'd been told. "You are a piece of memory in a No-scaled-not-prey's mind?"

"A big piece." Ember nodded seriously. "Bigger than any other piece, though it's still about half and half. It helps that we were similar before any of this."

"And you can switch bodies at will. What does all of this mean?"

Ember shrugged. "That I made it back, despite death. That I have a second chance at life," he scowled, "and I'm not going to spend this life watching my half-sister hurt you or Dam through stubbornness."

"What will you do?" Herb tried to squash the rising hope he felt. It was his own fault that Storm hated him, not Storm's, and Ember would realize that. It was foolish to think his returning son could simply put the issue to rest.

"I will tell her what she needs to hear," Ember said angrily. "That she has no right to hold a grudge. I'll go from there."

O-O-O-O-O

Later that night, Herb's son and his children settled down in a nearby cave, giving him and Thorn some privacy. Herb noticed that the three seemed far warier than the situation warranted, one of them even staying up to watch the night for danger. His son had spoken briefly of the unnatural monster that was the catalyst and antagonist of his second chance at life, but it must have been far worse than Ember implied for them to have such defensive habits so deeply ingrained months after her defeat.

Herb himself had a different problem. Explaining what Ember had told and shown him to Thorn. He began by curling up around her, getting them both comfortable.

Thorn spoke first. "This was a very good day."

"Yes," Herb laughed, "it was." He huffed. "Though what I have learned is also good, it is strange in a way I never knew possible."

"Stranger than a No-scaled-not-prey who befriended and saved a dragon from grounding?" Thorn closed her eyes.

"Much more so. Our son spoke, among other things, of a perversion of nature, a creature that could live forever. She was not noble and ageless, but a parasite who stole life from others."

Thorn opened her eyes again, clearly no longer ready to sleep. "You have bad timing, to tell me this now."

"I do, but I feel that you need to know now." Herb took a deep breath. "Ember is here."

"Yes, with two amazing sons." Thorn laughed softly. "Spark glows like the sun and Beryl is as dark as the night sky. I wish we could have met Flint. She must have been an amazing dragon, to equal our Ember in intelligence and looks."

"As do I," Herb sighed before continuing. "Ember is here, alive and well, but that was not the case for fifteen season-cycles. The monster I spoke of had taken him." He was phrasing it in such a way as to avoid the idea of Ember being dead for those fifteen season cycles. It was a hard enough story to swallow without that, and it would only worry Thorn if she did believe.

"And..?" Thorn waited.

"Through a series of unfortunate events, the monster accidentally merged our Ember's memories and body with that of Beryl's No-scaled-not-prey companion. Their minds found a kindred spirit, and instead of fighting for dominance as in the monster's case," that part even Ember had not truly understood when explaining, "they managed to merge. That is our son, but he is not only our son."

"I fear losing Flint had broken Ember," Thorn whined, "if he has told you this and believed it himself. It cannot-"

"He showed me," Herb cut in, "and it is very hard to deny seeing his body engulfed in unnatural blue fire before shrinking and shifting into the shape of a No-scaled-not-prey." He was not so hypocritical as to be much bothered by strangeness, after a life of defying what was considered normal, so it did not bother him too much.

Thorn jerked away from Herb, aghast. "He is-"

"Himself. Alive, in spite of death. It is him, I assure you, and even knowing that there is apparently memory from a different kind of person inside him, I cannot truly see its influence. He says it is subtle, so subtle that only Beryl, having known both parts of him, can see the individual pieces."

After that, it was simply a matter of reassuring Thorn that Ember was still himself, still a dragon in mind. Eventually, Thorn understood. Then the other part of their discussion came up.

"He knows?" Thorn asked sadly.

"His mate was the one who killed the monster," Herb replied, "and I told him the rest. He is apparently not at all happy with Storm, and plans on talking to her when she comes before Winter."

"Good." Thorn purred. "Maybe he can mend the ties between you two."

"I broke them," Herb whined, "I do not think they can be fixed. Not after this much time."

"Let him try?" Thorn said, phrasing it as a question. "I have faith in our son. Maybe he understands more than we do."

"I will... let him try." Herb agreed, though he did not want to risk the possible fallout for his son if Storm took the interference badly.

Hope was almost a foreign emotion when it came to this situation, but he still felt it.

O-O-O-O-O

"So, Sire, what's the deal?" Beryl smirked sarcastically. Spark, who was watching the entrance to their cave, slapped Beryl with his tail.

"Be respectful!" Spark snapped. He clearly knew it was a lost cause, but he did it anyway. After several months, the two brothers had slipped into an odd version of normality, taking turns acting like the older brother, though in reality, Spark was technically the elder of the two. Beryl's more varied responsibilities and life experience negated that advantage. It was all in good fun, so Ember saw no reason to intervene.

Besides, Beryl was his friend as well as his son, a dual relationship developed as Hiccup and Toothless, in the time before Vithvarandi and before he had known Beryl's true name. It worked better for both of them if Spark did the chastising when it was needed.

Yes, they had a very odd family dynamic, but it worked. It was only going to get crazier with two, maybe three more Furies added into the mix.

Ember spared a moment to wish that Flint was around. It was not possible, as she too had died to Vithvarandi many years ago, but that would make this moment perfect. He was trying to let go, to move on, as he knew he must, but he still found himself missing her. She would want him to be satisfied, happy, and he knew it, but it was hard.

He shoved memories of his dead mate from his mind, concentrating on the question at hand. "Apparently, your Dam and I killed someone a few decades too late," he quipped weakly.

Beryl and Spark eyed him with identical looks of confusion. Beryl snorted. "You only use humor like that when something's wrong."

"True," Ember agreed, "though I resent the implication that I'm only funny in those circumstances."

"Out with it," Beryl growled. He dodged a tail swipe from Spark.

"My Sire and Dam were attacked. That is how Sire lost the use of his eye, and how I gained a half-sister." He spoke bluntly, waiting for his sons to make the connection he could not bear to say outright.

Comprehension dawned on their faces, followed by rage. It was warming to see they already valued his Dam and Sire so highly.

"I believe we have a new hunt." Beryl gritted out, growling angrily.

"As I said, it is already done. That monster tried the same thing with Flint and me, and your Dam killed him quite efficiently." He didn't mention that the dragon in question had just beaten him in a fight. He wasn't embarrassed, but it wasn't something they needed to know.

"So... you have a sister?" Spark blinked, processing that. "Cool. What is she like?"

"Apparently, stubborn," Ember muttered.

Beryl laughed at that. "So, like everyone else on Berk was? You just cannot get away from that personality trait!"

"She's also being a bit cruel, though she had reason in the beginning. My Sire did not tell her she was not his."

Spark winced. "How did she find out?"

Now it was Ember's turn to wince. "Apparently, it is custom to leave the body of certain offenders to rot. She found it, and it wasn't far gone enough to get rid of the family scent."

"Ouch." Beryl shook his head. "So I get that she wasn't happy, but that had to have been fifteen years ago, at least."

"Yes. She's still not even speaking to Sire. That needs to stop. Holding her grudge is hurting both Sire and Dam."

"So, you're going to..." Beryl smiled. "Use your Hiccup negotiating skills?"

"Oh come on, I said that one time!" Ember growled playfully.

"What is this?" Spark laughed. "I want to hear about this one. Stories of Ember the No-scaled-not-prey are fun."

"Okay, so this was right after he had gotten up," Beryl smirked at Ember as he elaborated. "He was walking around the nest, looking at all the stuff that the other No-scaled-not-prey had built. Two Spine-thrower-two-leg dragons got into a fight over a female. He said that right before trying to intervene."

"I didn't know what was going on!" Ember objected. "I thought they were fighting over food."

"Anyway, neither of them wanted to hurt him, so they kept fighting right over his head. But his hair got in the way of a blast, and it caught. He had to dunk his head in a water bucket!"

"At least they stopped fighting!" Ember mock-glared at Beryl. "And I didn't see you helping."

"I was too busy threatening all three dragons, including the one they were fighting over, after they set you on fire." Beryl yawned. "Anyway, that's what I think of every time you talk about negotiation."

"Well, this time I have a better understanding of the situation." Ember considered that. "And I know how to forgive when one's Sire does something they later regret." Stoick apologizing for disowning him came to mind. He could have easily rejected the apology and held a grudge, just like what his sister Storm was doing.

That was a strange feeling. He had never known what having a sibling would feel like, let alone an adult half-sister with family issues. It might be nice if he knew anything about her aside from that. At the moment, she was just an aggravant, someone who was hurting his Sire and Dam through spite. Once they got past that, he might be able to find out.

O-O-O-O-O

The next few weeks passed quickly. Herb and Thorn got to know their son's sons, a task both they and the grandsons in question took to eagerly. Hunting and fishing trips were spent happily conversing, though that did lessen the amount of prey brought in by hunting trips. They easily compensated by simply hunting more often.

At the same time, Ember spent quite a bit of time with Thorn, feeling out his Dam on her view of the issues with Storm. He didn't suspect his Sire of lying or even intentionally skewing the story, but everyone has a bias, and Herb seemed very set on blaming himself.

"She is headstrong and quick to... well, everything." Thorn had said. "Quick to laugh, quick to cry, and everything in between. Emotions are her driving force."

That explained why she was still holding to her feelings of betrayal and hurt so long after the fact, but it would make his task harder. Still, it was clear that Storm was mostly in the wrong, so he could do little more to solve the issue until she arrived. In the meantime, he too reconnected with his parents, regaling them with tales of a young Beryl and Spark, his misadventures over the decades of wandering, and in sadder moments a few of Flint.

Time passed, but Storm did not arrive. On the cusp of Winter, Thorn began to look to the sky, and Herb took to the woods more and more often, in a pattern Ember quickly discerned as a habit. It hurt to see his Sire almost hiding from Storm, but he knew that was what he was going to fix.

When the first snow came, it became clear Herb and Thorn were worried. A week later, they were frantic. Ember asked what was wrong.

"She is never this late." Thorn had admitted. "Never."

Another week, and he had resolved to go out looking. On a morning of cold and windy skies devoid of clouds, he had announced his intentions.

Of course, it did not go well. He had intended to go alone. It would be safer that way.

"I'm going," Beryl said calmly.

"As am I," Spark added.

"You will need someone who knows where she was supposed to come from," Thorn said carefully. "She told me, and she always sticks to the path."

"I will stay..." Herb started.

Ember took a quick look around, judging the resolve of the other three. "We're all going, it seems." He glanced over at Herb. "There's no point in staying behind if everyone else is going."

"What if she gets here and there is no one around?" Herb objected. "She might get worried about Thorn." The matter-of-fact way he omitted himself did not make Ember happy at all.

"She'll do the smart thing and wait," Ember said dismissively. "And if she does not, we'll at least have a trail to follow. Besides, we know what direction she'll be coming from, and apparently her entire route?" That was said questioningly.

"Yes, she told me," Thorn answered. "She goes in loops of a sort every Spring, circling through a path that covers most of the major nesting grounds. By the time Spring is over, she is pretty far out. Then it is a slow and steady flight straight back, stopping at nests along the way." She flicked her ears toward the sky. "I know where she would have been. We can ask around at the nests she visits."

How close is the last nest she should have reached before coming here?" Hopefully, it wasn't far.

"A week's flight," was the reply.

"Okay, so if she was there, we know she's somewhere around that area, and if she wasn't we know we have to keep going." It was lucky Storm kept to such a predictable...

Oh. Well, at least his massive absence had one side effect, even if it was his sister wanting to make sure Herb and Thorn never lost another child.

They set off the next day, following Thorn. Ember spent the first day's flight wondering what had delayed Storm. The second day, he actually brought it up.

"Hopefully she found a mate and lost track of time," was Thorn's theory.

"That is possible. Or maybe she got stuck somewhere," Herb added. "She might have run into trouble." That was slightly less desirable.

"Of course, we cannot rule out just getting lost," Spark added.

"Or an accident," Beryl muttered for only Ember to hear. "I hate to say it, but we might never find her if she got struck by lightning over the ocean or something."

"Let's go with your theory, Dam," Ember decided loudly.

"Hey, how long has it been since you two left home?" Spark asked Herb a few minutes later.

"Many, many season cycles. Before Ember came along, for sure." Herb laughed sourly. "Then again, we only left the pack a few years before that. We didn't need to leave our home for anything."

"What is the deal with that?" Spark inquired politely. "Was your pack overcrowded?"

Thorn warbled sadly. "No, we left for other reasons."

Ember had never thought to ask about that. Thinking back, he could not recall any stories of his Sire or Dam's parents and really didn't know much of their pasts. He listened carefully.

"Like..." Beryl prompted.

"The pack, like all dragons, lived and breathed custom." Herb began. "Things like 'males fight to prove dominance,' or 'everyone obeys the chosen alpha'."

"Yeah, we know those." Spark supplied. "There are a lot of them though."

"That, son of my son, was the problem. Our species specifically is fading, and so many of those customs are restrictive." Herb trailed off.

"In our case, it was one involving rivalries," Thorn picked up where Herb had left off. "There were two families of our kind in the pack, and our Dams were not at all friendly. It is custom that the offspring of two feuding Dams cannot mate."

"Even though..?" Beryl seemed personally affronted by that. "But what if the kids wanted to?"

"Then they," Thorn supplied with a growl, "were 'discouraged' quite harshly by the entire pack. Herb and I were those two offspring. It was very bad."

"How so?" Ember spoke up, too enthralled by the story he had never known to exist to stay quiet.

Herb snarled. "For me, the females of the pack were very stern, ostracizing me once it became clear that I liked Thorn, and dropping hints. Hints that I should leave to find a more suitable mate. When I made it clear that was not happening, the mates of those Dams began to attack me, trying to drive me off."

"And for me," Thorn added, "it was just as bad, in a different way. Another custom said that females do not go out in search of mates..."

"Yet another way to kill our species off entirely." Herb griped angrily.

"...so they had to try something else." Thorn winced. "The young among our pack were instructed to keep me away from Herb, and those whose mothers agreed with Herb's Dam took it a step further, having their offspring shame and humiliate me at every turn, hoping that Herb would be driven away."

Spark barked in surprise at that last piece of information. "That is really harsh!"

"Yes, it was. We both left after my Sire almost killed Herb," Thorn whined. "That was too terrible to bear. I wish they had just accepted him, but..."

Herb swooped over and tapped Thorn with a wing. "I did not want to leave either, but it was better with you than without you." He spoke to the rest of the group. "That is why we left, and why we live in isolation, avoiding other dragons as much as possible. Not only is it safer, but it means we can ignore those rotten customs that restrict our lives in the worst ways. I only taught my offspring," he glanced at Ember, "the few customs that are good and fair. No mating by force, no eating dragons or No-scaled-not-prey, and so on."

"Yes, I know those." Ember laughed. "And it's a good thing I taught them to Beryl and Spark, else Beryl might have looked upon my No-scaled-not-prey form in the cove as food and not a friend."

Beryl looked thoughtful. "You know, I always wondered about a few of the things the dragons of the nest did, but I never saw any of that."

"It is always there if you know what to look for," Herb replied sadly. "This nest we are coming to, for instance. Storm used to speak highly of it, but if you look I know you will see things that are twisted and pointless."

The group settled back into silence. Ember wasn't sure what he wanted to focus on. Storm and her issues, the search, his Sire and Dam's past, or the general pointlessness of dragon customs.

He had five days. That would be plenty of time to think.


	3. Inquiry

"Is this it?" Ember fell back, rejoining the group as the nest came into sight.

It was a place of borders, a stretch of coast that bubbled with what appeared to be hot springs. There were no natural caves or nests. In their place stood oddly textured lumps of rocks, spread across the beach. When a Gronckle emerged from one such rock and flew off it became apparent that the rocks were artificial, created by the lava spewing Gronckles of this pack. Other dragons of all kinds rested on top of the structures. Above it all dozens of dragons flew, the young playing roughly while the older dragons supervised and spoke among themselves.

It was not peaceful, the tumult audible from quite a distance. Shrieks of every emotion overlaid the murmur and rumbles of scores of dragons conversing and just making noise.

Thorn glanced at the rock structures. "This is definitely it. Storm described those shelters in less than glowing terms. Apparently, they are cramped and always wet, slowly sinking into the sand over time."

"Good to know. I'm not going in any of those." Beryl shuddered mid-flight. "That does not sound fun at all."

"We're not here to have fun..." Ember began, stopping as he thought of something. "Actually, nevermind. Beryl, Spark."

"Still here!" Beryl yelled back.

"While we're here, ask around. We want to know about any odd happenings, any storms or sudden weather changes. Anything that might have caught Storm unawares."

"What if we find Storm? Do you want to know?" Spark asked playfully.

"Yes, I do!" Ember growled and snapped at Spark. "Go, my information-seekers!" With that Beryl and Spark split away from the group, heading towards the main mass of dragons. They disappeared into the flock quite easily, obscured by the riot of colors around them.

"As for us, how do we find the alpha?" Ember was pretty sure there would be one. Berk's pack didn't have one, but that was a conscious decision, probably as a result of being enslaved by their last leader. Or maybe Astrid counted. He hadn't taken the time to check before he left Berk for the last time.

"Easy, he is the Self-burning-dragon coming out to meet us." Herb turned his good eye towards Ember. "Be respectful, he is very likely not in the mood to bandy insults."

"Anyone is if you try hard enough!" was Ember's flippant reply. He circled his Sire and Dam in midair, subtly eyeing the approaching dragon, the supposed alpha of this nest.

It was a Monstrous Nightmare, one of the largest he had ever seen, a deep blood-red in color. The dragon carried himself with an air of confidence, though Ember wasn't entirely sure if that came from the dragon's alpha status or naturally dominant size and coloration.

"Green like the ground in the spring," the Nightmare began as he came closer, "grey like the stone of our homes, and orange as a fading blaze. You enter my territory." His voice was deep, if almost uninterested. "And you sent the sun and shadow ahead without permission." That was said slyly, as if the Nightmare expected a certain response.

Before Herb could respond, Ember decided to test this alpha's temper. "The sun and shadows go everywhere and are free spirits. Who among us controls them?" He tried to keep a straight face. Now, to see if this Nightmare was comfortable bandying metaphors with someone who could fight back, so to speak. Really, calling Spark and Beryl the sun and shadow made it far too easy to deflect that veiled accusation, though it was an apt metaphor.

The alpha Nightmare growled angrily, turning to face Ember specifically as he replied. "I do if they enter my territory. What are they to you, orange and insolent one?"

"My sons, and dangerous warriors who have grounded far greater enemies than you," Ember answered flatly. "As have I. But we do not come to challenge you and have no interest in either residing here or taking over." Best to defuse that worry. He knew Night Furies were seen as powerful, and it was possible, even likely, that the alpha here would see five of them as a dire threat. Some of Stoick's preliminary chiefing lessons had sunken in, apparently.

"Visitors sometimes bring gifts, to pay for the inconvenience of extra bodies in the shelters, which are so difficult to make and therefore precious." The Nightmare rumbled slyly, continuing in a carefully neutral tone of voice. "It is my right to detain the two who have trespassed until such gifts can be brought, as is custom."

"You would make a mistake grave enough to possibly be your last, holding prisoner one who has suffered grounding in the past." Ember retorted, mentally preparing to fight if need be. "I did not exaggerate. You are nothing compared to a six-eyed-mountain-sized Queen. We have grounded the latter, do not make us ground you too." Grounding was an interesting term because it had two interconnected meanings. When applied to Beryl, it clearly meant being injured in such a way as to be denied the sky. When applied to the Queen, on the other hand, Ember made it clear in his tone that he meant the other meaning of the term, death. By using both meanings in his statement, Ember had left the last use of the term ambiguous. The alpha did not know for certain which threat Ember meant, and which he did not. Threatening an alpha with death was actually somewhat normal, and not unexpected in these circumstances if usually not truly meant. However, threatening to physically ground an alpha was a very dangerous thing to say, and only a very overconfident or very dangerous dragon would do it, as it could not be taken back, a dire insult that undermined the alpha's authority and honor if left unavenged.

Ember knew all of this because the last week had given him plenty of time to think, some of which he had spent pulling up old memories of what Herb had taught him. He had been intrigued by his Sire's story. The memories were coming in handy now.

A long moment passed in which the Nightmare digested what Ember had said, and probably puzzled over what he had meant. Finally, it responded in a dangerous voice. "You are a very clever dragon, to issue an unrecoverable challenge in such a way that no one can prove it. I do not want you here. What is your business with my territory?"

Herb took his chance and tried to salvage some of the conversation. Ember listened on in amusement. "We are only here to search for news of my daughter, who has not returned home. Your help would be very much appreciated."

The alpha Nightmare snorted. "You know how to speak with proper respect. I do recall a dark wing, one whose markings remind me of the storms of summer, the blue and grey clouds that herald floods."

"Was she here this season-cycle?" Thorn asked anxiously.

"Yes, I believe she was." The alpha shook his head. "Our nest has been troubled lately by No-scaled-not-prey, who hunt these waters and these shores. I do not remember your daughter leaving, but my attention is sought by many of my subjects, so that is not surprising."

"Do we have your permission to seek news of her among your subjects?" Herb sounded almost subservient. It made Ember's blood boil, even if he knew it was an act. His Sire was not one to bow to another.

Something else about what the Nightmare had just said nagged at Ember, but he dismissed it as unimportant, unsure as to what was bothering him about such a straightforward statement.

"You and the grey one do. The orange one does not and will never have my leave to enter my territory," the alpha declared almost smugly, glaring at Ember. "I fear he would enter and never leave. He is devious enough to try and topple me if I give him an opening. That is my final decision."

"No big deal," Ember said lightly. He had been expecting something similar. The alpha needed a way to assuage his wounded pride. "I'll just hang around. I can catch up to you guys when you leave."

"We will accept your offer, alpha." Herb managed to duck his head midair as a sort of bow, though it was not much of a bow thanks to the stocky neck structure Night Furies possessed. "Ember, we will leave at the South edge by nightfall."

"Got it." Ember smiled widely at the alpha, who clearly had no idea what to make of the alien gesture. "So, alpha, is the talking in descriptions custom or just your own little way of messing with people?"

Thorn and Herb, who were already flying away, did not hear him. The alpha, on the other hand, hesitated before answering solemnly. "Usually, it impresses on newcomers the proper weight of the situation and my title."

"So it's your idea." Ember shrugged. "I suppose it works on most dragons."

"All but the most irreverent." The alpha shot back, rumbling in amusement. It seemed much of his smugness and weight of authority were affected, as they had faded away now.

"That's me," Ember agreed, "the least respectful dragon around."

"And the most dangerous," The alpha growled, suddenly grave. "I do not know what it is about you just yet, but there is something that clings to your shadow, an impression that I cannot shake. It is unnatural, and yet a part of you. I tested you, but you did not reveal it. Threatening, but with a fraction of what you may be capable of."

"Back to speaking in metaphors?" Ember tried to hide his unease. A few years ago he would have laughed at the idea of anything supernatural, at unnatural things clinging to his shadow. But now, knowing that the description was in a very real way scarily accurate, he was far less certain about what he had once taken for granted.

"Sometimes metaphors are the only way to describe what I can see." The Nightmare responded solemnly. "I did not receive this position through size or power. I see things, and they help me make decisions others struggle with. The dragons of the nest know this and respect my opinions. When our last alpha fell, they put me in his place without even asking."

"Well, I can't really argue it." Ember shook his head. "Don't worry, that thing in my shadow is only as dangerous as I let it be. Also, we're flying. What shadow are you looking at?"

The Nightmare snorted, turning to fly away. "The shadow in your eyes, of course. The eyes are the easiest pathway to what lies within. Anyone who knows that can see what I see." He was out of speaking distance before Ember could think of anything to say in response to that.

It was going to be a long, unsettled wait, alone with his troubled thoughts.

O-O-O-O-O

True to their word, Herb and Thorn emerged from the flocking throngs of dragons shortly before sunset, followed by Spark and Beryl. The group set down further along the beach, almost out of sight of the odd rock structures that declared that part of the beach a nest.

"So, any luck?" Ember asked his Sire first, knowing Spark and Beryl probably had quite a bit to say regardless of whether they had learned anything relevant to the search.

"More than I like," was Herb's cryptic reply, laden with dread. "The dragons here are mostly content, and many remember Storm. She was here several turns of the moon ago, but no one seems to know when she left."

"That," Thorn added, "is bad on its own. But I have found through careful inquiries that many dragons have disappeared from this nest, several around the same time as Storm. It is a worrying pattern."

"Sire, we have more to add to that." Beryl looked to Spark, who nodded. "I speak for both of us. We determined, through asking the younger dragons, that there was a worrying activity going on."

"What?" Ember could hear an odd mix of amusement and worry in Beryl's tone.

"The younger dragons, having lost several friends to No-scaled-not-prey ships in the area, are planning to attack the next ship. When asked if we would join, Spark and I did not commit, but we implied we would, to get them to explain a bit more. Once they were sure of our intentions-"

"Sure that we would not tell their alpha, which we really should-" Spark objected.

"-In any case, they are planning to attack because they lost friends. We believe Storm may have been among those taken. They spoke of 'even the dark-wing's fire' not being enough, though only in passing, likely not wanting to scare us off." Beryl growled. "They are fools, to attack again after failing once, with no more of a plan than before."

"You say taken, not killed," Ember noted with a small measure of relief and surprise. Taking dragons alive was not normal of Vikings. "Why is that?"

"These ships that sail this coast are not normal." Beryl shifted. "The dragons spoke of green metal cages and imprisoned dragons. They are unaware that that is significant, but we both know better."

"Yes, we do." Ember elaborated for the Furies who had not lived among Vikings or been a Viking. "Those cages are not a Viking tool, and repeated movement of trapped dragons along the same route is very interesting. It's probably a dragon hunter transport route." He knew little of hunters, though they had been a subject of passing concern in the weeks after waking from his coma. A far-away problem that would not become important for some time. Back around Berk, hunters were rare. Here, it seemed, they were far more active.

"What has become of Storm then?" Thorn asked worriedly.

"If she was taken alive, they would simply add her to their shipment of dragons." Ember reasoned through the logic of the situation. "Those ships are carrying live dragons, which means they're probably selling them alive. No one would transport a living dragon when they could just-" He cut himself off.

"Just what?" Spark asked.

"They would just kill the dragons and transport the bodies if they didn't need them alive." Ember snarled, hating to say it. "Dragon scales, teeth, claws, and horns are sold and bought, but those do not decay, so it would be less of a hassle. If Storm was taken, she will be unharmed, if a captive to be sold at some place of business. Wherever they take their captives at the end of this route."

"So we follow the next ship-" Thorn began.

"No," Ember cut her off. "They will either try to catch us or flee to the nearest port. We cannot follow without being seen."

"Then what do we do?" Spark sounded frustrated.

"Ships have parchments, parchments that will have their final destination marked on them." Ember smiled, purring as he elaborated. "We do not need to follow the ship, we only need that parchment. I can get it if I can get into the ship itself. And it just so happens there's a group of dragons planning on attacking the next ship that comes by anyway."

"We help them, get you in there, and get the parchment." Beryl finished, summing it up. "As an added bonus, we can free any dragons on that ship, take out a crew of dragon hunters, and try and make sure those idiot dragons from this nest don't die in some pointless frontal assault."

"Exactly." Ember looked around. "All in favor?"

There were no objections.

O-O-O-O-O

Time passed slowly now that they were waiting for something, not possibly racing against time. It didn't help that, even knowing some little of their plans, the alpha did not rescind his decision to keep Ember out of the nest. Beryl and Spark took turns staying outside with him, but he did not like keeping them away from some source of entertainment for no reason other than his own inability to join them.

Really, he didn't mind being kept out of the nest that much. Most dragons, from what he had observed, were somewhat simple, in much the same way that most Vikings were. He had been pleasantly surprised by how intelligent that alpha Nightmare was. Or at least, that was what he told himself to stop from disliking the restriction.

There was one benefit from not going into the nest every day as the others did. The stories of what occurred on any given day were new and fresh that night, as opposed to being old news. He was also treated to four different perspectives of any big event, meaning at least one of his family had been in a good place to see what actually happened on any given day.

Herb had spoken truthfully about certain customs being restrictive and stupid. There were several all-out brawls between males caused by a lack of available females, a lack artificially created by a web of restrictions feuds created, a maze with plenty of pitfalls. While it was true that the alpha had apparently sorted out each conflict with a very wise and calm demeanor, such conflicts would not exist if the customs did not.

In addition to spectating, Beryl and Spark worked to ingratiate themselves with the younger element of the nest, the ones planning on attacking the next dragon hunter ship. Beryl had summed the group up quite eloquently.

"Foolish, dramatic, and energetic, the dragons too old to count as fledglings and too stupid to count as adults."

It was not a flattering description, but it wasn't inaccurate either. Both Beryl and Spark often returned either amused or exasperated by some new stunt pulled by a member of the group, something that inevitably riled an older dragon up or stirred up pointless drama. It was possible that the current plan was the least pointless, if also most dangerous, endeavor they had ever attempted.

Eventually, the day came. The first stupidity, in the opinion of all of the Night Furies, was that the attack was to occur in broad daylight.

Ember squinted out at the horizon. "That's it?"

"Apparently." Beryl had landed, panting, right in front of Ember a moment ago, having brought the news as soon as one of the group of adolescents preparing to attack had sighted it. Spark had gone to ready Thorn and Herb.

"Any word on how many humans, what kind of weapons?" Surely the one who had seen it would have checked-

"Nope." Beryl snorted in disgust. "She didn't even think to check."

"Okay then." Ember leaped into the air, knowing Beryl would follow. "Let's go get what we need before these idiots get themselves killed."

O-O-O-O-O

"Three net-launchers and two dedicated archers," Beryl reported. "At least we know what net launchers look like, thanks to them." He motioned towards the attack that had just begun. Two Nadders, three Gronckles, and one Zippleback were in various state of disarray, shrieking and circling the ship, clearly signaling their intentions and giving the hunters plenty of warning.

"Pathetic," Ember growled. Herb and Thorn looked like they agreed. The five Furies were watching from the clouds, knowing that the hunters would be too distracted by the obvious threat to notice them.

"So, how do you want to do this?" Beryl looked to Ember.

"Hunters will probably be pretty good at hitting us if we give them a chance." Ember laughed sourly. "But they aren't looking straight up. I say we make use of this helpful distraction. Drop right into the middle, and attack from there."

"Sounds like a plan!" Beryl folded his wings and dove. The rest of them followed after him, slowing their descent just enough to prevent the signature whistle of air that accompanied most Night Fury bombing runs.

Silent and quick, the five Furies dropped lower, aiming at the middle of the ship. The hunters were all at the edges, watching the circling dragons who were so clearly about to attack. The first thing the dozen or so hunters knew of their utter defeat was the splintering cracks that five multi-ton dragons elicited from the deck of the ship as they landed and sprung into action.

Thorn and Herb disposed of the hunters, killing and throwing overboard with equal enthusiasm. Herb especially cut a vicious and imposing sight with one bad eye always leering at his opponents. Beryl and Spark dismantled, through tooth and talon, the net launcher and any suspiciously weapon-like machinery on deck.

Meanwhile, Ember ducked out of sight for a moment and shifted into his human form when no one, dragon or human, was looking. It was a bit dangerous with dragons around intent on killing any human on board, but he needed to get into the captain's cabin, and that would be much easier as a human.

Luckily, the ruckus the adolescent would-be raiders caused had pulled what appeared to have been all of the hunters above deck, so Ember ran into no hunters on the way to what looked like the captain's cabin. He pulled the door open cautiously, a knife in hand. It was a throwing knife, like most of the dozen knives he carried on himself at all times. He had swapped out the other types of knives at a village some months ago, choosing to play to the perfect aim Ember's memories gave even his human form.

He still remembered his life as Hiccup, it just wasn't relevant anymore. Thus he thought of himself as Ember and felt no disconnect. When one has two identities merged together, one does not put any particular importance in which identity one uses at any given time. If they both refer to the same person, what does it matter?

The captain was not inside, and the cabin itself was quite plain, save for a stuffed Terrible Terror in the corner. Ember shivered in distaste, moving to the desk. As expected, there were quite a few parchments there, one of which the map he had anticipated.

Taking a quick glimpse to be sure it was the right one, Ember noted that the hub Storm had likely been taken to was quite extensive, and seemed to be the center of operations in this area, akin to the center of a wheel, transportation routes extending out in all directions like the spokes. He quickly rolled the map up and tucked it away under a piece of his leather armor. Time to make a dramatic exit. By now the deck had probably been taken entirely, and he'd rather not have his abilities widely known.

There was just enough room in this cabin to shift into his dragon form, which he promptly did. He actually wasn't sure how powerful the blue flames that facilitated his transformation were, though he'd done a few tests on the way to Thorn and Herb's home. He harbored a faint suspicion that if the cabin had been too small, the fires were capable of breaking it, and possibly the entire ship depending upon how it was built, open like an egg.

Or he might be crushed. It really wasn't something he wanted to test too strenuously, given the likely result of accidentally surpassing any hidden limits the power might have. He knew it could bend iron bars, given the right leverage, but beyond that was uncertain.

Regardless, he was now physically stuck in a cabin not much bigger than he was. Good thing it was made of wood. He began flaming the ceiling, chuckling to himself as the stuffed Terror somehow caught on fire from a piece of debris. Who knew how that was even possible, given that Terrors were fireproof on the outside.

The roof soon gave in, revealing the sun, the sky, and several very confused adolescent dragons, one of which almost fell into the hole he had just created.

"Watch your step!" Ember called out, before climbing out onto the deck. "Coming up!"

Beryl stared at him, his eyes shining in amusement. "Got it?"

"Yup." Ember considered the bystanders. "There aren't any hidden secrets in the captain's cabin. I made very sure." He grinned.

"We freed the dragons below deck." Spark pointed to another, larger hole on the other end of the ship's deck. "They say thanks, or would if they knew you existed." He looked to the side of the ship, where a quickly shrinking group of dragons was flying away as fast as their wings could carry them.

"Well, looks like everything turned out-" Ember was interrupted by a growl. He turned to see the Nightmare alpha, looking displeased. "Yes?"

"This is a bit close to my territory," the alpha pointed out, "and I do not like that you recruited-"

"Hold on a second." Ember raised a claw. "These idiots," he gestured towards the offended adolescent dragons, "came on their own. If I had gotten a chance to talk to them, they would at least have come in with a plan. My family and I are only here to find Storm."

"On a random No-scaled-not-prey ship?" The alpha looked skeptical.

"No one said it was a good plan, but we have a good idea as to where to go now." Ember shot back. "We'll be on our way."

"Then I wish you good luck." The alpha nodded to Herb, Thorn, Beryl, and Spark in turn. "And you, insolent one, I would give some advice."

"I'm listening..." Ember didn't want to admit it, but he did want to know what the Nightmare would say, even if it would probably be some generic saying about-

"The darkness within you is not what you think." The alpha leaned closer, speaking only for Ember to hear. "It is not your capability for immortality or your split soul, but something far more mundane and insidious. Do not fall to it."

Ember jerked back, panting. "How can you possibly-" His voice betrayed just how much those matter-of-fact words had rattled him.

"I told you, I see things in the shadows. Heed my warning." The Nightmare turned to the adolescent dragons. "And you will explain to me, as we fly back, exactly why this was a bad idea that only succeeded thanks to outside intervention."

The suitably chastened dragons followed the alpha away from the hunter ship, leaving Ember and the other Furies alone.

Ember was not at the moment in the mood to laugh at the horrified expressions he had seen on the adolescent dragons as they flew off. The alpha Nightmare saw so much, to know those things about him. It scared him that anyone could just look at him, at his eyes or otherwise, and see straight to what he was, to the things he kept secret for safety. The warning he had been given was cryptic, but a large part of him wanted to dismiss it and the alpha simply for peace of mind.

Later, he decided quickly. He'd figure out what the alpha meant later.

"Sire?" Spark looked concerned.

"What did he say?" Beryl asked, right on his brother's heels.

"Maybe it was advice for Ember himself." Herb admonished. "Many of the things that alpha tells us are not meant for other ears."

Ember noticed the way Herb had said that. "Did he tell you something too?"

"Not in so many words." Herb looked away. "Just that we would fly hard paths in the future, and to not lose hope. Hardly specific advice."

"Well," Ember decided to change the subject and get them back on track, "I know where our next path goes." He explained what he had seen on the map.

Later that night, when Ember found time to shift back and examine the map more closely, he found a name for the place Storm had probably been taken.

'Viggo Grimborn's Auction Island.' It was actually called that, with the subtitle of 'biggest dealers of dragons, both living and not.'

"This guy's got some nerve," Ember muttered. "And a lack of originality when it comes to names." Viggo Grimborn. He put a finger on the island's silhouette marked in the map. "Sorry Viggo, but you sold someone I need back. You'd better hope we can find her without tearing your little island apart in the process." Five Night Furies, one of them with a human's perspective and body to complement his dragon half. What could go wrong?

**_Author's Note:_ I dislike the 'omnipotent seer with vague warnings' trope, but I have no problem subverting it. The alpha Nightmare, I will reveal here as it is not plot-important, cannot see the future in any way, although he was not lying about seeing things. Later on, there will be a pretty good explanation as to what exactly he sees, though it's going to be pretty well disguised in the rest of what's going on at the time.**


	4. Espionage

"I am cold." Spark shivered, looking miserable. It was a sentiment echoed by the rest of the group. "I thought Winter could not get any worse."

"We'll set down for the night soon." Ember looked around, taking in the sky around them. It was bitterly cold up above the clouds, but the intermittent storms of hail, snow, and very rarely freezing rain below the thick cloud cover made this the lesser of two evils.

The sun shone brightly up this high, but it gave no warmth. Every night, frost had to be melted off the edges of their wings once they landed. Really, it was not weather any sane dragon would travel in, or any sane Viking. Luckily, at least for the Vikings, almost none of them counted as sane anyway, so as long as the ocean remained liquid, which it had so far, things continued as normal. The Furies had passed over several hunter ships traveling the same route as them, proving this particular assertion.

Ember recalled with some nostalgia the many Winters he had spent in various caves, in his years roaming the world. He knew very well that while dragons did not hibernate like bears, they did generally settle down and sleep quite a bit in the deepest Winter. Luckily, at least for him, it was not an instinct, not a physical requirement. Oh, sure, they were miserable, but there was no unacceptable physical issue with remaining active in the Winter, no overpowering desire to sleep.

"Tell us something we don't know, brother," Beryl rumbled. It was so cold, the five of them were even flying in tight formation, in an unspoken attempt to conserve body heat that likely held no real benefit.

"Hard to do, given we have been traveling together for a month," Spark retorted. "I am bored too."

"How about a game then?" Herb rumbled consideringly. "I believe I remember one from when I was a hatchling, one that could be played up here."

"Save it for tomorrow, Sire." Ember cut in briskly. "I'm going to check below, and if there's a good place below we can set down." He had, by virtue of being the only one who could read the map, become the one in charge of their travels. At least, that was the only spoken reason. He was pretty sure Herb and Thorn were letting him lead simply because Thorn was too worried about Storm, and Herb because he thought he wasn't fit to lead because of the entire ordeal with Storm. Ember didn't see the connection, even if the thing with Storm had been Herb's fault, which it really was not, at least not to the degree Herb believed, but his Sire had said as much at one point. Beryl and Spark followed his lead already, though not without offering their own advice, which was welcome help most of the time.

He didn't really mind leading, so long as he was the best one for the job. The responsibility weighed on him, but it was a manageable weight so long as he did his best. He hadn't failed yet.

The trip below the cloud cover was miserable, if necessary. It was a strange feeling, knowing as he bore the increased weather and wet chill of large snowflakes that while it was miserable, even worse than above, they would be coming down to rest and thaw out. It was an idea full of contradictions.

Below them, the world was blanketed in white, the snow abutting the sea on the coast of several tiny islands. That was becoming normal.

One of the features of the island they were flying to was that there wasn't another island larger than a few hills within a week's journey by boat. It was in a no man's land, at least for dragons, because getting to it by wing would be a harrowing and desolate journey with no reason to be undertaken. The lack of large islands meant they were close, very close. After a month of increasingly frigid days of travel, that was a relief.

Ember mentally picked out one unremarkable snow-capped island and ascended back through the heavy and brooding clouds, quickly catching his family's attention, and wordlessly leading them back down. They all landed quickly, sparing no time to look around, trusting Ember to have made sure they were alone. The following procedure was one they had perfected in the weeks of travel.

"Whose turn tonight?" Ember asked, flaming out a circle three Furies wide and three long. "Spark was last night."

"Thorn's, I think?" Herb said quickly. Thorn nodded in assent at her mate's guess.

Without further discussion, Spark and Beryl laid down in the patch of ground now steaming and devoid of snow, each on one side of the warmed area. They put up one wing each, pointing at the center of the area. Ember and Herb laid down, Herb with his head by Spark's, and his tail by Beryl's head, and Ember doing the same with his sons' tails. They too raised a wing, creating a ceiling above the final, roughly Fury-sized gap in between them.

Thorn, the only one not yet in the circle, quickly set to work piling snow up around the outside, eventually covering even the roof made of outstretched wings. Ember could hear faintly through the small opening his Dam left the sounds of a Fury breathing fire. On the inside, he and the other Furies did the same. Soon he could feel ice-cold water dripping down his wing, his back. This was the most uncomfortable part.

The firing from the outside stopped, and at that cue, all heat production halted. Soon, Thorn came to the entrance, and stood outside, flapping her wings to send a massive draft of freezing air both inside and around the structure of partially-melted snow.

The already near-freezing water created by their heating froze almost immediately. Once Thorn was satisfied with the state of their impromptu structure, she crawled into the gap left unblocked, her body warm despite the freezing snow all over her. The hole was left for air, and to ensure the structure did not melt during the night.

The four dragons along the walls broke their wings free fairly easily, though Thorn had to heat Beryl's wing, as it had gotten too frozen in the process of making the ceiling. Finally freed from the duty of holding the walls in place, the Furies huddled next to and in some places on top of each other. There was no consideration greater than warmth.

It had taken several cold nights, a few mistakes, and one embarrassing disaster in which the walls had not been solidified thoroughly enough, but they as a group had developed a strategy that created a warm shelter anywhere that had snow and cold conditions, and one that only took an hour to set up.

"This is something I never thought possible," Herb admitted, as a way of starting the conversation. His voice sounded a bit muffled. Thorn probably had some part of her body on top of his head, as she was in the middle and therefore had nowhere to stretch but on top of everyone else. It was still the warmest, and thus most desirable spot.

"Vikings do something similar," Ember replied, remembering snow shelters made for both fun and survival training, "though they make blocks of snow and build their shelter with them. They do not have the fire or large bodies to steady and solidify walls."

"Still impressive," Beryl said, his voice even more muffled. "Hey, Spark, move your tail a little to the right, it's tickling my nose." There was a sound akin to leather sliding on leather. "Wrng drctn." That was extremely muffled. Another sound. "Better."

Ember laughed. "So, anyone got any stories?" This was, to be entirely honest, the highlight of each day. Not freezing cold, not flying in the biting wind, and free to speak without the aggravation of the other two factors.

"Actually, I was thinking we should discuss what we are going to do," Thorn whined worriedly. "We are close, right?"

"A day or two away," Ember reassured her, "and that is a good idea." He shifted slightly, thinking as he did. "Alright. We know Storm was captured, and we know her captors came straight here." That much was clear by the map.

"Not stopping anywhere along the way, unless something went wrong," Spark agreed.

"Actually, even if something went wrong, they probably wouldn't risk docking anywhere else with such valuable cargo," Ember added. "No honor among jerks who sell dragons."

"So she definitely got here at some point... a few months ago." Herb did not sound like he liked that piece of deduction.

"Yeah, she was probably sold at some point." Ember hated that this was likely not the end of the chase, but it wasn't something he could fix. "Though, there is a chance she's still here."

"So how do you think we should find out?" Beryl sounded like he had an idea.

"How?" Ember prompted, willing to hear him out.

"Will there be written records, like with the map?" Beryl sounded uncertain. "If there are a lot of dragons being brought in and sold, it would be hard to keep track."

"Actually, there would." That was a very good point. "I don't know where they'd keep them, but it wouldn't be too hard to find out."

"What are you thinking?" Spark sneezed. "Hey, now someone's tail is in my face."

"Sorry." Herb shifted, audible among the sound of five Furies breathing. "There."

"I'm thinking," Ember continued the thread of the conversation, "that it would be easy, or at least not as hard, for a human to simply walk in and check. If nothing else, I won't be shot on sight."

"Are you sure you can fool them?" Thorn asked cautiously.

Ember snorted, extremely amused. It apparently hadn't quite sunken in yet for his Dam that he was also human, or at least had the memories to match a human. Really, at this point, he wasn't truly a human or a dragon in mind. He also wasn't conceited enough to use phrases like 'the best of both worlds' to describe himself, no matter that he felt that fit pretty well. "I think I'll manage."

O-O-O-O-O

"I think I'll manage," Ember repeated to himself a few days later, when he got a good look at the island he was to be infiltrating.

"I'm not so sure." Beryl shivered, looking down on the monstrosity of human proliferation.

The entire, quite large, island was covered in buildings, seating, a few areas that looked like stages, and a lot of behind-the-scenes equipment, machinery, and storage. The storage especially covered the center of the island, thousands upon thousands of green cages lined up in rows, patrolled by guards. Some cages were covered with blankets, some half submerged in ice-cold water, and a few even suspended in midair from posts specifically designed for such a security measure. Most of the cages were at present empty, but enough were occupied to make Ember dismiss the far-fetched plan of searching for Storm on the off chance she was still there. It would be documentation alone that could show them the next step.

The island itself seemed to be separated into two sections. That for customers, a ring around the main docks, and that for the workers, guards, and hunters, the other three-fourths of the island. That was going to be an issue because Ember was pretty sure the reason behind separating the two areas was to make it easy to determine if someone was where they shouldn't be.

His mission would be like searching for a needle in a haystack... in a field filled with haystacks... patrolled by armed guards who probably knew who was and was not supposed to be there.

That wasn't even considering the protections put in place, presumably against humans, given the island's undesirable and almost unapproachable nature to dragons. Ballista, catapults, even a few net launchers, all manned.

Of course, there might be a reason for all defenses to be on alert. What Ember assumed were the business docks were jam-packed, and there was a steady stream of people coming and going, many of which definitely weren't hunters.

Viggo's auction island was up and running even in the dead of Winter, it seemed.

The first step, however difficult, was finding somewhere to set down, somewhere for the others to wait while he went needle-hunting, so to speak. The island itself was not an option, in any way. There was nowhere on it for a dragon to hide for more than a few minutes, guards constantly moving and turning any possible hiding place into another routine check. It made sense, given they kept dragons captive, to make sure nothing dangerous was ever free on the island for long.

The sea stacks immediately surrounding the island, likewise, were heavily occupied, mostly by weapons of war, equipment that seemed designed to break sieges of hundreds of ships.

Whoever this Viggo guy was, he was either prepared or paranoid, depending on who his enemies were. Nevertheless, even this man's preparations did eventually falter.

The first, second, and third layers of sea stacks out from the island were occupied. There were a few in a fourth row, that while built on were not populated at all. Under the cover of the heavy snowfall that dampened the world at the moment, Ember brought his family to one of those places, and they discovered a hidden alcove. It was not unknown to whoever Viggo had hired to make the sea stack into a fortification, floored with old wooden boards, but it was invisible from any ship, high above any searching eyes, and had a good view both of the main island, and the only way up to the alcove itself, which was likely another safety measure.

Yes, it was probably paranoia. Nothing was dangerous enough to merit this level of protection, interlocking defenses, and isolated watchtowers. This place could defend against anything short of Ragnarok.

That was not a particularly good feeling to have about a place one was about to sneak into and steal information from, but Ember did have plenty of advantages no other living thing in existence had. Not that he would use most of them, except as a last resort. They were not clean, morally defensible abilities, but abilities used either by a monster or as a final alternative, in the direst of situations.

Still, it was a bit comforting to know he could, in the worst-case scenario, fly away. The defenses were all either human-oriented or focused on...

He took a closer look. Now that he knew what he was looking for, it became clear that getting in as a dragon would be easy. Getting out, on the other hand, would be hard. That made a lot of sense in retrospect, given the odds of a dragon wanting off the island were a lot higher than the odds of a dragon wanting in. Scratch flying out as an option. That was going to complicate things. Still, it looked like most of the inward-facing defenses were focused towards the center of the island, on the admittedly well-thought-through idea that as most of the dragon cages were there, and most of the dragons would probably fly straight up, that was where they would be most effective. If he went to an edge of the island and flew off from there, keeping just above the water and in the middle of the night, he would be fine.

It was again, not comforting to see such strong defenses in place, though they were all set to stop something other than the odd blend of dragon and human he was.

He kept his reasoning to himself, trusting Beryl to see enough to prevent any foolish ventures. Just to be safe though...

"No one come in after me. Ever." He was pretty hard to kill completely if it came down to it, but his family was not.

"But what if-" Thorn began to object before Ember cut her off.

"This place is an iron-jawed trap. Nothing gets out unless, and this is a big unless, it flies away from the very edge, keeping close to the water. If you get trapped, I have no idea how to get you out."

"Just wait until we're sold, and take us from whoever brings us out," Beryl suggested lightly. "They'll do the hard part."

Ember smiled. "Smart, very smart. Too bad we couldn't do that for Storm. But there's one risk to that. The people selling you need you alive. The people buying you might not." It was a scary and sad truth, though, for Night Furies that would be a very stupid move on the buyer's part, which was why Ember was pretty sure wherever Storm was, she was alive.

That brought a sour line of thought. Who knew what state Storm would be in when they found her. Best not to imagine. The imagination could and would come up with the worst possible outcomes.

"Yikes." Spark shivered, huddling closer to the wall of the alcove. "I do not like that idea."

"Don't worry, it very likely wouldn't happen," Ember admitted, not liking the terrified look on Spark's face. It was hard to remember sometimes that while he and Beryl had experience, and Thorn and Herb had age, Spark was in many ways still immature, not as hardened as the rest of them. That translated to a generally lighter and more optimistic outlook on life, which was something Ember wouldn't intentionally crush. Time, if nothing else, would accomplish that sad but natural task on its own. Let Spark retain some innocence as long as he could. Whatever innocence was left after being attacked by a monster wearing his own Dam's body, anyway, and seeing his Sire and Dam killed.

Really, Ember had no idea how Spark wasn't as jaded as the rest of them. It was a mystery.

"Okay." Spark looked around, taking in the alcove filled to capacity with the bodies of five Night Furies. "What do we do if someone comes out here?"

"Kill them," Herb responded flatly. "We have nowhere else to go, and flying in the storm that is coming is suicide. Flying above the clouds at night is not much better. Tonight, we stick to the ground, no matter what."

"Correct." Ember agreed. "I don't generally like killing, but really, I'm not sure why I should care about dragon hunters anyway, so I won't object." That was a moral stance he might have to take a look at later. Dragon hunters, glorified slave traders, really didn't deserve much mercy, especially as this was their choice of occupation. Unlike Vikings, who dealt with dragons as animals to be defended against, which was at least somewhat understandable, dragon hunters did not have any moral grey area in what they did.

No, he would not shed any tears if he was forced to defend himself tonight, though if that happened he would have bigger things to worry about in any case.

It was a few hours before sunset, or so he assumed, not going above the clouds to check, when he deemed the coast clear enough to fly to an at the moment unoccupied alley on the edge of the island. He left without a word, the entire group knowing his window of time to get in was short. They knew not to come after him, knew he was the only one with a chance of infiltrating the island.

Yes, this was the best plan. The real question was, what would go wrong? Something always did. He tried to guess that unknowable answer as he glided in, silent as a wraith.

Would Storm still be on the island? He'd already observed that breaking a dragon out would be nearly impossible. That would be tricky, but he would probably just follow Beryl's plan and wait until someone bought her. That was a possibility he had accounted for.

Maybe someone would recognize him? That was laughably unlikely here, a place months from Berk and occupied by people he had never met, but it would certainly make things complicated. It depended on who was doing the recognizing, but if they were out here odds were they hadn't heard any odd news from Berk yet, so he could bluff his way along.

Then again, it was possible that there might not be any records. That was possibly the most unlikely of all, especially given the apparent paranoia of the man in charge. Although, that same paranoia might cause this Viggo to hide the records, or keep them in his own possession.

Ember smiled darkly as he landed in the alley. Worst-case-scenario, he could find Viggo, kill him, and take his memories. It was brutal, dark, and entirely unjustifiably morally speaking, but it was an option for Ember. He liked having options, even if some of them he'd probably never feel good about using.

He quickly shifted to his human form, and then checked himself. Yes, the map was put away, and his knives all sheathed, hidden in his leather armor. A dozen throwing knives, all accessible in an instant except for the small one inside the wooden base of his prosthetic, his last human resort.

He shrugged his shoulders, glancing at his palms. The identical three sides of a square scarred into each hand was the only mark of a monster, an abomination that unleashed could probably tear armies apart from the inside, a creature capable of taking bodies and memories from every kill it made personally, almost impossible to predict, catch, or eliminate, the ultimate face in a crowd, anonymous because everyone knew it, or at least knew the faces it wore. No secret was safe unless it was known by no one, with that kind of creature around.

It was not a description of him, as he did not use that part of himself in that way and had never had true cause or motivation strong enough to overpower his morals in such a way. It did, however, describe Vithvarandi pretty well.

That was why, in the end, he, Beryl, and Spark had killed her. She was an abomination, a leech of life, but she could be killed. He could be killed, far more easily than she as he did not have scores of murdered victims to borrow life from.

That was a sobering thought. He was dangerous, as Vithvarandi had been dangerous, but he limited himself with his morals and values. That was an unavoidable compromise, but it meant he had to be careful.

Ember emerged from the alley, wishing he had thought to buy his human form a heavy coat at some point in his travels. He did not use his human form often nowadays, but it would have come in handy. Then again, it was probably safer to have direct access to his knives anyway.

The island, from this point of view, was intimidatingly large and complex, a maze whose walls consisted of buildings and guards, who he did his best to avoid. From his observation of the island from above, he had determined that the best place to start looking for records of sales and acquisitions was probably near the personal quarters of everyone who lived here, the full-time guards and assorted personnel needed to keep an operation of this magnitude working.

Indeed, he noted as he moved through the somewhat crowded back streets, there was a town of sorts, hidden under the surface of the island's business. Men sold food from carts, making what was probably a good profit from the hunters and workers lined up to buy from them. The same applied to weapons and weapon repair stalls, clothing stall that made Ember reconsider his decision about the coat, and other things.

Ember saw one of those 'other things' in an alley, a dark one that seemed relatively unpatrolled. He had a fairly good idea what women lurking in dark corners and approaching certain passerby meant, though it was not something one saw on Berk. He moved on, clearing his mind of that kind of distraction, though not entirely effortlessly. He was still a teenager in this body, to be fair, and apparently, some reactions were truly uncontrollable.

It was odd to be both dragon and human in many ways, but that was thankfully one of the things that did not blend between forms, instead switching over to whichever species he was currently representing. He wasn't sure why it worked like that, but it did make things a lot less weird and complicated. Yet another thing that, had he been able to talk civilly to Vithvarandi, he might have asked about. The scientific part of him could probably deduce many, many things about both humans and dragons simply by experimenting with what did and did not carry over with beings like himself. It was, however, pointless with only one test subject. A control was needed to discern coincidence and personal idiosyncrasies from actual mechanics of either species.

That, and such in-depth research seemed like a task for someone like Fishlegs. Ember preferred things that could be used, built, improved. The workings of the mind were probably, while of more interest to him than most, not very improvable or useful.

As he mused, and of course kept an eye out for trouble, he moved through the hidden town, slowly but steadily moving towards the places of residence, of clerical work. The places where records would be kept, away from the fire-breathing merchandise.

It was past sundown, only discernible by the growing pools of light around the many lanterns now contrasting true darkness. The crowds did not lessen, though surely many of these people were going home.

It was very strange to think people lived here, but they clearly did.

Eventually, Ember saw a building he was pretty sure had to be where the records were kept. It might have been a very hard thing to discern, but as luck would have it two armored hunters were escorting a thin old man carrying a large box, one with a piece of parchment sticking out. That identified the building as what he was looking for.

Ember stopped, discreetly watching as the men disappeared inside. He was expecting them to leave and be on their way. His curiosity stirred when they left carrying more likely empty boxes of the same sort. He began listening to other conversations around him as he looked for a way into the building without being noticed.

"Got an extra shift tonight."

"Coming home late again?"

"Not like I got a wife to care."

"Eh, same."

That was interesting. Was it an isolated case? The late shift, that was. A different conversation caught his attention.

"Pulling an all-nighter. Extra guards on the debt collectors. Gonna be a lotta gold changing hands."

"Don't want 'em gettin' greedy. Well, greedier. Auction nights always tempt, especially big ones like tonight."

There were other conversations, ones of no use, but those two told Ember all he needed to know. That explained why the docks had been so crowded. It was a big night, apparently. He turned his full attention to the records building.

It turned out to be surprisingly easy to get in. The door wasn't locked, and the only lanterns in the area were carried by guards. During one of the dark moments between guards, Ember quickly snuck in. Apparently, security wasn't so tight when it was just protecting a bunch of numbers and dates.

Finding what he wanted, on the other hand, was going to be much harder. There were shelves and shelves of boxes, only sorted by date. That was going to make this nearly impossible to do in a short time. He had hoped there would be some sort of list sorted by species, as Night Furies were rare and the resulting list very likely short. This, while less effort for those writing things down, was not so fortunate.

Still, he had no other way of getting the information he needed. He did some quick math in his head, determining the first day that Storm could have been brought in, though it was a rough estimate thanks to the uncertainty of when exactly she had been taken by that hunter ship. He would have to err on the side of caution, meaning he had...

Several months worth of boxes of records to sort through. He might be there a while.

O-O-O-O-O

Beryl groaned, pulling himself from oddly heavy sleep. He was not surprised to find himself in a cage. Memory of what had just happened was fragmented, but the parts he could clearly recall were pretty conclusive.

Thorn, yelping in surprise. The realization that a ship from another sea stack outpost had snuck up on them from behind while they watched the island. A frantic, dangerous struggle to save Thorn, who had been struck first, collapsing where she stood. And finally, the horrifying realization that a single arrow could somehow take any of them out, even as Herb and Spark fell around him, and he finally was struck, collapsing into unconsciousness.

Had they even known of his family's presence beforehand? He did not see how, so it was probably coincidence. A terrible, unlucky coincidence.

Outside his covered cage, he could hear groans from other, familiar voices. They were only captured, not dead. That was not so bad.

A No-scaled-not-prey voice spoke of great luck and another of profit. He didn't care. Ember would just have to get them once they were sold.

It was embarrassing though, to all be caught just hanging around doing nothing. Ember was going to laugh... but he didn't mind. It just meant his Sire cared, that he was hiding his distress with humor, as usual.

At least they had planned for this.

**_Author's Note:_ Things are becoming more and more complicated…**

**To the guest reviewer who demanded I continue to write: This story is finished, as per my personal policies, so… done?**

**Also, on a general note, we have not yet come to either of the two main premises of this story. Next chapter is a terrible cliffhanger, just as** forewarning **.**


	5. Hubris

**_Author’s Note:_ ** **For those of you who do not know what Hubris is, don’t look it up until the end of this chapter, for added suspense.**

After what felt like weeks, but was probably only a few hours, of sorting through boxes of records, Ember was getting very frustrated. There had to be a better way, a faster way. Records of a Night Fury being brought in would be helpful; records of when and to whom that Night Fury was sold would be perfect. Sadly, while parchments of that sort did exist, he had to sift and sort through about a hundred less useful sheets of raw data, notes taken in shorthand during the day, just to find the three sheets or so of well-written summary that collected all of the information he had passed over and condensed it into something useful. Of course, because nothing could be easy, those three pages were not together, and definitely not in the same place in every box.   
Stories of heroic Viking rescues never spoke of anything like this. Ember was of half a mind to think it happened quite often, but the heroes in question never wanted to remember it and told no one afterward, maybe even substituting in some stroke of good luck instead. That would explain quite a few coincidences in such tales.   
He knew one thing for sure. It took all of his self-control not to use his fire to burn each box he ended up discarding, having found the master records lists only to see a total lack of Night Furies.   
On the other hand it was a good thing that Night Furies were not often caught, bought and sold. Although that could be a result of theirs being a declining species, not hunter ineptitude or a specific intelligence present in their species.   
It was almost a relief when, a few hours in, someone opened the door. He had of course planned for that not unlikely scenario and quickly shoved the box back into its place, glad that he was hidden by shelves and more of the infernal boxes of frustration. There was a dark corner of sorts that he promptly slid into between shelves a knife at the ready, the flat of the blade shielded by his hand as to prevent any unlucky reflections of light.   
"Auction's going to start soon." A voice said, probably the weedy man from before. "We don't have time."   
"Viggo wanted the records of last time to help set the starting bid. It'll save  _ him _ time, and he's the boss." Probably one of the guards.   
"Why didn't he get 'em before?" That old man must be either very important or very stupid to talk like that. Then again, Ember didn't know this Viggo, maybe he was a relaxed sort of-   
"Yer lucky he needs ya. The rest o' us don't like bein' sent to clean dragon cages with the dragons still in 'em. No one asks questions like that."   
Oh, so the man was important. So much for Viggo being a nice and forgiving boss.   
"Asides, they was jus' brought in an hour ago. Boss mus' have the greatest luck ever." The guard sounded... excited?   
Ember had a premonition, one that made him want to both flinch and groan in frustration. Please, please let them not be talking about what he suspected.   
"Here it is!" The old man must have pointed at a box because Ember never heard any rustling of parchment.   
"How can ye tell?" The guard sounded skeptical. "There's hundreds, and ye never even looked inside."   
"It's not every day we sell a Night Fury-"   
Ember slammed his head quietly against the shelf opposite him. Great.   
"-so I know. Come on!"   
"On your head, if it’s the wrong one." There was a scraping sound, the box being pulled out, followed by a door opening and closing. Ember was once more alone... in a storehouse of records... that had just had the only record he needed removed... because, in all likelihood, one or more of his family had been caught.   
"Come on!" It was not a loud yell, but it was a vehement one, and silence followed it. They were gone.

Ember stepped out into the open, rounded the shelves, and just for fun took a look at which box had been taken.   
What hurt even more was that it was a mere three boxes down from where he had been when he was interrupted. Fifteen more minutes would have given him the information he needed... but if he had the sheet, there would probably have been some issues down the line. With his luck, the old man would have noticed the box out of place and checked, discovering that the sheet he needed was gone, alerting everyone that something was up and that said something involving Night Furies, in all likelihood.   
No, he would have had problems either way. It still stung. Now he had two issues, both very bad if handled incorrectly. No, make that three.   
"First things first," he muttered to himself as he slipped out of the records building, "who was caught?" He needed to know how many of his family he had to rescue. From what he had heard, they were being auctioned off tonight, likely within the hour, so he would have to go with Beryl's plan. At least now he knew Storm had been sold and was not still on the island. That was one possible complication averted.   
It was ironic, if comforting, that he did have something of a plan for this exact scenario. He wasn't, he realized as he walked, actually worried so much as frustrated. His family, whoever had been caught, was in danger, but not immediate danger. Anyone who bought a live Night Fury would probably keep them alive, and he could take out any ship before anything more could happen. So really, this was an inconvenience, but not a truly life-threatening one.   
Back to the original question. Really, the easiest way to find out both that and what ships they would be taken to would be to find the auction and watch, no matter how disturbing it might be to see family members bid upon and sold.   
That being decided, Ember turned and headed down a darker alley, moving directly towards the ring of building and presumably auction sites that were open to the general public. He spared a moment to be grateful that there were so many workers and vendors around the other parts of the island that no one seemed to find his presence strange, though he was unsure exactly what they thought a one-legged teenager with leather armor was supposed to be doing. Acting like he had a right to be where he was worked wonders in stopping people from thinking about it.   
A woman stepped out of the shadows in front of him, and Ember abruptly realized he had taken one of  _ those  _ alleys as a shortcut. Great. He did not have the patience to deal with this right now.   
"You look-" She began.   
"Not interested." He cut her off in a flat voice. He stepped to the side, and she moved to block his way again, which he found vaguely odd.   
"I don't believe that, even in this weather." She spoke in a sultry voice.   
Ember, not at all in the mood to argue, very deliberately flashed a knife. "Too bad. Move."   
_ That _ seemed to convince her, and she quickly stepped back into the shadows. "Alright, alright!"   
He snorted in amusement as he passed out of the alley and back onto the main roads, continuing towards the public areas. Were things like that a natural outgrowth of so many people in one place? He hadn't seen it in villages, places with a couple hundred people at most, but that might just mean he hadn't known what to look for, or that it had been subtler. Another question for someone else to answer, if anyone else cared.    
Eventually, he became aware of a familiar noise, the buzz of a distant crowd. Working on the assumption that Night Furies would attract attention, and therefore would probably be auctioned off to the biggest crowds, he followed the noise to an amphitheater of sorts. From what he could tell from the outside, it held quite a lot of people. There wasn't any auctioning going on at the moment, judging by the idle chatter and not-so-idle arguments flaring up.   
All of this he heard from the outside, as he approached the guarded entrance. His aura of legitimacy did not look to be holding up, as the expression on the faces of both guards made it clear without any words that he wouldn't be getting in. So much for the direct approach.   
He needed to at least see from afar who got the Furies, so that he knew who would have the distinctly unpleasant experience of losing said Furies the moment their ship was out of sight of this island and its formidable defenses. So, he wandered around to an unguarded area, the back of the amphitheater he wasn't getting into.   
He scanned the back of the structure that seemed to be seating on the inside, rising higher than most Viking houses did. No handholds, no way up from here. He could fly if he wanted to be caught. There were no guards within sight from this side of the structure, but flying in here at all was asking to be seen and shot down. Most of the guards did not carry ranged weapons, but enough would see him if he rose above the level of the rooftops that it was pretty much guaranteed a few of them would.   
The rooftops... He took a look at the other buildings. The streets were close here, and the roofs steeply sloped to stop snow piling up and caving them in. That might get him high enough. It would be a treacherous climb though, as the snow had been softly falling for a few hours now, and there was already a thick coating of it on all of the nearby rooftops.   
Still, it was a possibility. He chose a building, moved around to a wall out of sight, and scanned the area repeatedly. No one was around to see.   
A quick transformation left his Night Fury body wedged in the space between buildings, allowing him to stand on his hind legs and just grasp the edge of the steeply slanted roof with his front paws. Pulling himself up was easy, though he transformed back the second his hind legs got a grip on the roof, hoping no one had seen. It was unlikely but possible.   
Ten seconds passed. Twenty. No alarms were raised. No one had seen. Even that had been a dangerous risk, one he could not repeat. The climb up to the peak of the roof was cold, above all else, but it was doable.   
His head above the peak, Ember noted with satisfaction that he was just barely high enough to see the stage, presumably where the dragon would be displayed. There was a large, strong-looking bald man with a wicked glare standing there. Viggo?   
"Our next auction will be that," the man gestured to the side, "of a Titan-wing Nadder." There was a murmur of admiration as the cage that had been rolled in at the man's command was uncovered, revealing a striking Nadder. The dragon was bigger than normal, and with a royal blue coloring that almost shone in the light of the lanterns. Its demeanor, on the other hand, was much less impressive. It leered at the audience, swaying drunkenly.   
"This one's a terror." The bald man grinned. "Has to be kept sedated at all times." He named a starting price and bidding began.   
Ember had made a few connections the moment he saw the Nadder, one interesting if irrelevant. He was pretty sure, if large size and unusually vibrant scales was any indication, that the Nightmare alpha had also been a Titan-wing. It was a possibility, at least. Titan-wings were technically, according to what he had read in the Book of Dragons long ago, a stage of growth, a final stage only a few dragons ever reached. That was all he knew.   
Another observation was one less intellectual and more visceral. He hated all of this. The cages, the frenzied bidding, the voices of the people who bought dragons. It was a gut reaction, one that made him want to snarl, though he was unsure how to do that in this body. Simple noises of communication, the wordless parts of dragon language could be imitated, but a snarl might be outside of his capabilities in this body.   
Eventually, the bidding died down, and someone made an offer none seemed willing to match. The bald man grimaced, looking around. "Once, twice... sold, to the representative of the Collector." He bowed to whoever he was speaking of, not visible from Ember's point of view. "Please convey to your employer our greatest thanks for her business." If there was a reply, it was lost in the noise of the crowd. The Nadder was taken away, and the bald man straightened.   
Ember's gut clenched as the man spoke. He did not like what he was hearing.   
"Next, we have a very impressive surprise." The bald man looked truly smug. "Last time, we had a Night Fury."   
Here it came. How many of his family had been caught, and who?   
"Tonight," the bald man boomed, "we have  _ four _ !" A surge of noise came from the crowd, not dying down in the slightest as Beryl, Spark, Thorn, and Herb were rolled out, looking utterly bored and disdainful.   
Ember was at both horrified that they had all been captured and glad that they apparently had confidence in him. He was unsure if the boredom was from sedatives or not, but it was comforting, either way, to not see his family panicking.   
He tried to ignore the bald man listing his family's attributes, though it did catch his attention that the man made a point of declaring Thorn female, and seemed to be looking at one specific person. It was also a surprise, if a  _ very  _ welcome one, that they were apparently being auctioned off as a group, not individually.   
That didn't make sense to Ember, though he supposed there had to be a reason behind it. It didn't seem to make sense to the bidders either, and the bald man offered no explanation despite the groans of disappointment that emanated from the ones who likely could not afford four Night Furies.   
The bidding began, and here Ember paid attention, memorizing names as the ones he would need to remember and avoid in the future. The Collector's representative was quite frantic, it seemed, and the price was pushed ridiculously high in a bidding war between the Collector's representative and a man named Krogan. In the end, the one known as Krogan seemed to surpass the Collector's capabilities, because the representative went silent quite abruptly.   
The bald man congratulated Krogan, and the auction went on. The only thing Ember cared about was that Krogan went behind the scenes immediately and that the bald man followed, bringing out another less-skilled auctioneer to continue in his stead.   
That, to Ember, meant that this Krogan was going to take them and leave immediately, which given the avarice of some of the other bidders, especially the Collector's representative, was not a bad decision at all.   
Part one of his plan, finding out who bought his family, was done. Part two was finding out which ship was that man's, and making sure his family was put on it. Ember slid down the roof and jumped, landing in a large pile of snow on the side of the recently-cleared street. He reflected in amusement that this entire endeavor would have been much harder in the summer.   
Now, how to figure out which ship was Krogan's? He was definitely not getting to where all the valuable dragons were kept, and where presumably Krogan and the bald man were finalizing the transaction, so that was out. To make things harder, most of the cages were covered, obscuring who was inside, and there were literally hundreds of cages moving across the docks, as multiple lesser auctions concluded all around the area. He needed to know which ship was Krogan's because finding his family in this insanity was not an option.   
In addition, if Ember could manage it, he still needed that parchment. He was pretty sure he remembered all the names of the bidders who had been willing and able to buy a Night Fury, so if he failed they still had plenty of leads, but checking all of those people and finding Storm might takes years with that many leads. Solid evidence on when and to who she was sold was still very important.   
With those two goals in mind, he wandered the public area of the island, looking for one place in particular. He needed men to talk, to tell him things, and there was one place they would probably do that.   
Of course, there was a tavern on the island. More than one, but he had searched out the one closest to that particular auction, to increase the chances of someone who had been there, and would, therefore, be most likely to know, being around. It was another interesting if far less mysterious constant that there were always taverns, no matter where in civilization Ember found himself.   
This one was jam-packed with patrons, and Ember, glad he still had a small amount of gold on him, bought the cheapest drink he could get, as another layer of disguise. He had no intentions of drinking it, but it worked to help him blend in.   
Next, he found a random patron. "Well, that was a bust," he griped, seemingly to himself, well within hearing distance. "Those Furies went for a lot. Who can even afford that?"   
It wasn't the most subtle hook, but after casting it a few times, he got a bite. A particularly inebriated man turned around and belched, before answering sadly.    
"Not the likes o' you or me, friend. Jus' the big guys, Drago or tha' Collector. Course," the man stumbled drunkenly before righting himself, "They're too 'portant to come themselves, alwa's sendin' lackeys wid a lot o' gold. Drives me crazy!"   
"I know what ya mean," Ember commiserated, trying to hold a drunken slur, "which one o' them bought the other Fury from last time?"   
"Not sure." The drunken man belched again.   
"Eh, doesn' matter." Ember hid his disappointment. "Did tha' Krogan guy work for Drago?"   
"Yep, sure did. Came in the biggest ship o' tha lot too. Lotta gold, lotta power." The drunken man stumbled again, clearly near collapse.   
Ember disengaged carefully by sidling away the moment his unwitting informant turned around to yell at someone who had bumped him. He got out of there quickly, despite not having gotten one of the two answers he needed. It was much less likely for some random tavern patron to know about an event from months ago. He'd have to find out another way, or maybe just come back after busting his family out. If he did come back, he was leaving them somewhere much further away. He had clearly underestimated the diligence of the defenses if his entire family got caught.   
That was what he would do, he decided as he walked away from the tavern. He would come back alone. This place might be hard to leave as a dragon, but it was not hard to get around as a human.   
Next, he needed to make sure that four heavily-guarded cages were loaded onto this Krogan's ship, now that he knew which it was. The docks were crowded and chaotic, so from ground level, it would be very chancy. Really, he wasn't entirely sure they hadn't been loaded yet, though that would have been truly impressive given just how difficult moving four cages through this crowd would be. The unlucky men he could see stuck with that task for other ships were not a happy lot, yelling at the top of their lungs for everyone else to get out of the way, but using far more unique and colorful language than Ember was comfortable with. That said something, given he had lived among Vikings for fifteen years. The twins would be in Valhalla here, just expanding their array of insults.   
After a few seconds of thought, Ember decided that he would need to catch his quarry at a choke point, to make sure he didn't miss them. So, he made his way as close to Krogan's ship as possible, slipping past and around the few guards posted around that section of the dock with ease thanks to the crowds. Loitering by the gangplank was a sure way to get a very good look at every cage brought aboard, and also a way to be sure he didn't miss any.   
A while later, a very suspicious convoy made its way towards Krogan's ship. Ember grinned as he confirmed that yes, there were four covered cages, and no, they weren't making any noises, no growls of complaints or anything of that nature, quite unlike the sadly panicked or angry dragons that most of the crates contained. There was definitely something in them though, and something alive, judging by the occasional shifts of weight that made the cages, pulled along on carts, lurch and slide.   
One of the forward guards spoke to the guard on the gangplank itself. Ember listened closely.   
"We got the Night Furies here. Make way. We leave as soon as they're on board." That was the last confirmation Ember needed. His heart lifted. If only Beryl and the others knew help was on the way, a few feet away at the moment. Maybe...   
"Where's Krogan? We aren't leavin' without him." The guard stood aside.   
"You stupid, or just blind? He's already on board, came ahead o' us." The other guard scoffed dismissively. "And no one look under the covers, these things aren't as sedated as they look. One nearly blew Thrila's head off when he pulled up the cover."   
Ember snuck closer to one of the cages, planning on doing exactly that and quickly reassuring whoever was inside that he was on his way. It wouldn't be hard, the cages were on a train of sorts, four carts lashed together.   
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Ember looked up to see an angry guard. "And what do ye think yer doin'?"   
Well, his luck had to run out at some point. Ember quickly considered his options, at that moment. Play the stupid teenager? Maybe, and probably easy given his appearance, but if the guard challenged that, he had no parents or really anyone to back him up. He could play the drunken Viking again, and maybe waver and slur his way out if this. Or...   
"I just wanted to see," Ember replied neutrally. "Not many people can even claim that much." He'd play the average, not very bright Vikings. That was the easiest way to go.   
Unfortunately, it seemed the guard thought so as well. It was just too easy. "I think yer a spy." The guard rasped out, his grip tightening. "And while Krogan would get it out o' you, he don't need to know about ya, really. We know who would be spyin' on us."   
That did not sound good.   
"So," the guard continued, marching Ember off the docks and into the streets, away from the ship, "I'm jus' gonna send you on yer way."   
What? That would be great, but Ember was pretty sure there had to be some bite to that apparent mercy, especially if the guard was serious about thinking he was a spy. "Really?" He made his voice hopeful, but not too worried. "Because I'm really not a spy, so that would work out for everyone. I get to live, your boss doesn't waste time interrogating me..."   
"No." The guard sneered nastily. "Oy, Thranduil!" Another bulky man walked up to them. This was not looking good.   
"Aye?" Thranduil glanced at Ember. "Another one?" He didn't seem very surprised. "That's three tonight."   
"Krogan will pay you extra," the guard said quickly, shoving Ember to Thranduil. Ember staggered, caught off guard, and before he could react Thranduil had grabbed both of his wrists with meaty hands.   
"Same deal?" Thranduil asked carefully.   
"Same. The gold for disposin' of the body, and half again for short notice." Okay, now things were getting very bad. "No need to interrogate, but ye can have some fun with 'im if you want." Very, very bad.   
Ember forced himself to not react as this Thranduil took him further into the island, knowing he needed an empty area for what he planned on doing. The world would be better off without this man and his cronies, but Ember didn't plan on meeting the cronies, so he'd just take out Thranduil.   
It took them a while to get to their apparent destination, a building that looked deserted, and Ember thought, with a dark sort of humor, that at least he had found a way to pass the time, waiting for Krogan's ship to undock and get on its way.   
Thranduil pushed the door open and chuckled when Ember tried to drag his feet. "Yer not going anywhere. Ever. Spies die 'round here, even if they do work for Viggo. We're equal-opportunity, ya see. Anyone can pay us to dispose of people like you, allegiance notwithstanding."   
Ember got a grip, though it was difficult, on the man's arms, twisting his hands around. It wouldn't help any, not on its own. He smiled. "You get a lot more eloquent with people you plan on killing."   
"Gotta keep up appearances," Thranduil agreed.   
Ember braced himself, wishing he could cover his ears. Thranduil was a bit too close, and this was going to be loud. "Yes, appearances can be deceiving." He activated the shift to his other form. The shift that always began with a powerful, solid blue fire flooding out of the scars on his palms and covering his hands, exerting an immense pushing force on any solid object they came into contact with. He had never experimented with what would happen if two parts of the flame pushed on opposite sides of something solid, but he had a pretty good idea.   
His hands were wrapped as well as he could manage around Thranduil's wrists, the only places he could reach with how his arms were being held. Several sickening crunches were heard as the flames spread to Ember's fingers and up his arms in seconds, scorching and pushing as they went.   
Two powerful forces pushing on a solid object between them. A crushing force. Thranduil was screaming, pulling away. Ember let go, knowing he could not hold on when the fire on his hands was trying to force all imposing mass away. He reversed the transformation, knowing a Night Fury would be even more conspicuous, instead drawing two knives.   
Thranduil wasn't even looking at Ember, instead staring at his mangled, smashed wrists. After a silent moment he looked up at Ember from his place on the floor, his eyes filled with utter horror and pain.   
"You chose a bad occupation," Ember remarked before throwing a knife. He made sure to wait until Thranduil was definitely dead to retrieve it, stepping over the body on his way out of the building. His powers only took a body if he was the one physically dealing the final blow, but if pulling a knife out was the last straw that killed a nearly-dead man, it was possible that would count. He had no desire to have to kill off Thranduil's form later, and even less desire to keep it. This was how he kept himself from becoming an immortal monster. If he ever did kill, he did so from a distance if possible, to avoid taking the body and memories of his victim. If that failed, he planned on ridding himself of them as soon as possible.   
It was a long walk back to the docks. Ember didn't bother, instead beginning to move towards a slight hill, one that would allow him to overlook the-   
"Oy, you!" It was one of the many guards. "What jus' happened in there?!" He was pointing at the building Ember had left.   
There was no way in Hel Ember would be able to explain that, and he would rather not be taken by the guards of this island either. He ran, ignoring the shouts of the guard as he went.   
Eventually, the road he was on gave way to an overlook of sorts, one clearly meant to give a good overview of the docks from afar. Ember spared a glance at the docks, confirming that yes, Krogan's ship was leaving, was pretty far out now, just passing the second ring of outposts, and that the four cages from before were there, conveniently lined up on the deck. He could even tell they were the right ones because the colors of the various tarps thrown over them were the same, and the one on the last cage was slightly crooked, just like he had seen earlier. It would be easy, later, to get them out if their cages remained up there.   
Several shouts from behind informed him that he was still being chased. Luckily, the guards weren't all that fit, not built for running. He, on the other hand, was, if not athletic, at least not out of shape. His prosthetic slowed him down, but that too was not much of an issue. He would run into the busy streets, lose his pursuers, and make his way to an edge of the island, where he could shift and fly away. It would be-   
Light, from his right, from the docks. Ember looked out at the docks again even as he ran, confused. He turned his head in plenty of time to see a flaming boulder, launched from one of the outpost sea stacks, the size of a small cart, slam into Krogan's ship as it moved out over the open water.   
Ember's gait slowed, his steps faltering, as another boulder smashed into the ship's deck. There was no smoke, or at least not enough to affect visibility, and through the softly-falling snow, the scene was horribly clear. The sailors frantically putting out fires, manning their own defenses, being taken out by subsequent catapult shots. Then a boulder hit in just the right spot, smashing a huge hole right at the waterline of the ship.    
It all happened so quickly that the guards hadn't even caught up to him yet when the ship disappeared beneath the choppy waves. Maybe thirty seconds, sinking like a rock after that lucky shot, the immense firepower of Viggo's defenses turned on Krogan's ship.   
He was tackled, shoved to the ground. That didn't seem to matter, for some reason. His entire existence hinged on whether or not four reptilian heads would emerge from the water where the ship had been. They had been locked in cages, helpless, but surely Beryl and the others had found a way out in the frenzied defense of the ship. Though he had kept his eyes locked on the cages, and knew they had not gotten out before the ship slipped out of sight beneath the waves.   
Surely they would have...   
Nothing. Plenty of sailors, small debris, pieces of wreckage. But that was all.    
But they had to have...   
Ember was roughly lifted to his feet, though the guards seemed just as shocked by the spectacle, and moved slowly. Time passed. Prisoner and captors alike watched the waters.   
Minutes. Beryl had demonstrated how long he could hold his breath once. A minute, oddly enough for such a large creature, was pushing it. Far more than a minute had passed. Nothing. No signs, no hope.   
No hope.   
Nothing.   
Gone.   
_ Dead. _   
Ember barely even registered being thrown into a dragon cage, one with many small bars too close together to fit between, one that was soon pitch black under a tarp. He did not hear them question him, did not understand their threats. It all fell upon deaf, unhearing ears.   
Eventually, silence fell. The night was cold, snow falling without sound, though that was not visible from inside the cage, from under the tarp that blocked out any light from lanterns or torches. Cold. Quiet. Dark. Alone.   
Alone.   
  


  
**Author's Note: I would like to make something clear. This story, unlike most, has absolutely no protection against what just happened. Those of you who are sure, absolutely sure, that none of our beloved characters are dead... I wish to inform you that you may want to revisit your expectations. I said dark, did I not? That was not an exaggeration, not a joke. Take** **_nothing_ ** **for granted.** **  
** **On that same line of thought, I would like to ask those of you who are sure our favorite Night Furies are dead to also revisit your assumptions. There is a saying, that unless one sees the moment of death, it is not to be believed. I will not go quite that far, but the idea remains.** **  
** **Truthfully, at the moment, it matters not whether what Ember saw is the whole truth. I say this because what matters is what Ember** **_believes_ ** **is the truth. I am entirely capable of killing off Beryl, Spark, Herb, and Thorn, so none of my readers should be sure that they are alive. I am also entirely capable of keeping them all alive, though I will say that would take some doing in this scenario, at least to keep things believable. Ideally, no one should be sure they know the truth. For you, the reader, it is a Schrodinger's Cat, for though the answer is already written, you have no way of knowing what it might be. Is the cat alive or dead? Until I open the box, you should withhold judgment. That being said, this is going to be a very rocky ride from here on out.**

**To the same Guest as last week: How do I do it (writing all before beginning posting)? Simple. I write what I would want to read, and that drives me. This particular story was finished in two marathon sessions in which I would write more than two chapters a day over several weeks time, because I happened to have no other responsibilities in that time. Normally though, I write whenever I have time because I find it fun. A chapter one day, two the next, and then maybe nothing for a few days in a row, or maybe my focus switches as inspiration for something on the backburner strikes. If I can’t stick with a story, I feel no pressure to force it, because no one is waiting for the next chapter, and there is no danger of leaving stories unfinished forever (which I** **_hate_ ** **to see).**

**Also, it’s ironic you mentioned Herb possibly dying… you weren’t thinking dark** **_enough_ ** **, as it turns out.**


	6. Shattered

Alone.   
Something was missing, a lightness he had never really felt until it was gone, when his heart was dragged out of his chest and frozen until he could no longer move or think. Words would not come, sound was meaningless. He lay there on the freezing metal floor of the cage, unmoving, for an unknown amount of time.   
Cold.   
He did not care, could not care, though it might be deadly. Numbness set in, but he was already numb in mind, so it made no difference.   
Silent.   
The snow fell, he assumed, but it could not be heard. There was no wind, no drunken laughter from the crowds that must be somewhere on the island. Here, now, it was as silent as a grave.   
Dark.   
No light, no faint outline that comes from refracted light, like that visible just before the sun rises. It was pure darkness, of the kind that allowed not even the slightest hint of any future light to break it.   
Absence.   
There was no presence save for his own, no guard outside, for the complete silence would have been broken, the darkness driven away by the edges of illumination from a torch. Here, in this cage, all other life was absent. It was not simply not there, but a void that pulled weakly, a space that should be filled.   
Madness.   
It was there, with him, though it could not be seen, heard, felt, known for itself. One final, colossal blow to a mind that had already suffered, more than most. A mind fractured by multiple sets of memory, yet partially healed by acceptance. That was gone, the wounds raw, and madness found a way in, shattering that which had been pieced together.   
But it is not the way of madness to purely destroy, not when there is something to be shaped. The madness slipped into his mind and crept throughout it, holding it together in a new way, affecting patterns of thought.   
It was not truly madness, not of the sort that causes ranting, raving paranoia. Even in the darkest, bleakest despair, he was too strong for that to take hold completely. The madness took hold, but it was simply a new section of the mind, one that could be quarantined. For one practiced in dealing with foreign entities invading by force, the madness had little effect.   
Little, but not none. It manifested itself in a way, a voice inside his head. A small, but insistent voice. The difference here, as opposed to so many of the insane, was that the voice found a source to draw from, a cause.   
And so it was that though his soul had been one, Ember and Hiccup merged to create something new, when that something new cracked and began disagreeing with itself, the madness gave voice to what would have otherwise been a subconscious conflict, drawing upon the part of his mind that Ember suppressed, speaking to him.   
Ember saw the voice and named it Instinct, for it spoke from all of the parts of Ember's experience the new being he was had suppressed. The instincts, the rage. The despair of losing his mate. Instinct spoke, in a voice so much like his own, inside his head. Rather than dismissing it as insanity, Ember listened, for he had come too far to do otherwise.   
O-O-O-O-O   
It did not register, at first, that Instinct was not his own inner voice, for it said what he had been thinking anyway.   
_ 'This is my fault.' _   
That was pure truth.   
_ 'I was far too confident.' _   
In so many flawed ways. Confident his family would not be found, confident they would be secure until he could get to them, so sure that things would be fine. Memory flooded his mind of those terrible moments spent watching the water, knowing and yet doubting that Beryl and the others would be fine, right up until it began to sink in that they were not.   
_ 'I was proud.' _   
Also true, though it had slightly less bearing on this specific tragedy.   
_ 'Really? Whose fault is it that we were here at all?' _   
We? It was at about that point that Ember realized he was not thinking these things, or at least not consciously.   
_ 'I was so sure I was meant to fix things. I brought them here.' _   
But it was not wrong to come for Storm. She was still in danger, still a captive somewhere. He could not fault his motivations.   
_ 'No, but I let them come. I knew it was better to go alone, but I did not stop them. I even brought Sire, who would have stayed!' _   
Ember writhed in agony at that. It was far too true.   
_ 'But those are not the only failures I am responsible for.' _   
No, they are not.   
_ 'First, so long ago now, was Flint. I could not protect her, or even myself.' _   
A hint of disagreement. Ember did not think Flint's death was his fault, it could not have been, as he could have done nothing different.   
_ 'But it hurts.' _   
Her death did hurt, though not as much as simply not being around her, knowing her life no longer existed. It was an old, but still unhealed wound, one that made him want to curl up and die.   
_ 'Stormfly, and Stoick, on the other hand, died as a result of my hesitance, my cowardice. I could have told the village of Vithvarandi, right from the start, or only just Stoick. Things would have been better.' _   
In retrospect, that was clear. More lives on his hands.   
_ 'This though is the worst. Spark, gone.' _   
Memories of his older son, the joy and the naivety, the healing of what Vithvarandi injured, silver scars on golden wings. Gone, dead.   
_ 'Dam, Thorn, gone.' _   
A soft touch in his youth, an injured spirit he so wanted to heal because he could and because that was the way it should be. Gone, and forever hurting.   
_ 'Sire, Herb, gone.' _   
Intelligence, a hatred of custom, the one who fought his own instinct and the way things have always been as a way of life. Gone, as if his courage had never been.   
_ 'Beryl, Toothless, my brother, son, friend. Gone.' _   
That hurt so badly. Courage, strength, playful sarcasm that reminded him of himself, a tail that healed only to die again so soon, one who had brought him meaning. Gone.   
_ 'What is left? Nothing. I want to die.' _   
Yes, he did want to die, to forget his failures and maybe join his family once again. But that was not entirely correct. There was something, wasn't there? Some reason to pick his shattered life up and carry on, as he had done before?   
_ 'Berk? I have left them behind. Fishlegs and Astrid will together accomplish everything I could have in time. Together, they are more than my equal, in love of dragons and responsibility to my people. That is not a reason to go on.' _   
All true. But there had to be something.   
_ 'What is there? I have no one, except maybe...' _   
Hesitation. It was not entirely true that he had no one. No one he knew, no one who knew him.   
_ 'Maybe... it is true. There is one person left who needs me.' _   
She did not know it, but Storm needed him.   
_ 'She does not know me. She probably needs my help though. If I don't carry on, no one will ever come for her.' _   
Ember agreed entirely.   
_ 'Who knows what is happening to her? Yes, there is something left for me. One last task to complete, before I rest.' _   
Rest. That sounded tempting, so tempting, but something deep within Ember objected. He wanted to see his family again, to die, but not until there was nothing left for him here.   
_ 'I will save Storm, and then, if there is nothing else for me to do...' _   
Then, he would rest. Forever.   
_ 'Yes.' _   
Now that he had decided not to die yet, Ember became aware that he was freezing, miserable, and tired beyond reason. There was nowhere to go in the cage, no comfort to find.   
_ 'I should shift, tear this cage apart. It is in the way.' _   
That felt a bit drastic. He had nowhere to go anyway.   
But, despite not being sure about it, Ember felt the flames rush out of his hands, up his shoulders. He had not intentionally triggered the change, and he did not want to. He  _ resisted _ .   
_ 'This is odd.' _   
It was, indeed, very odd. The flames, the fires that never stopped moving, were not covering the rest of him, beginning the transformation, but they were also not receding. He had never been able to stop them like this before. A flickering line existed on his arms.   
_ 'Is it because I do not agree with myself?' _   
Possibly. With a little bit of effort, he forced them back to halfway up his forearms. By relaxing slightly, the line of fire surged forward again, covering his elbows. It was mental effort, not physical, a strengthening or weakening of his resolve to shift.   
_ 'This could be... useful.' _   
He waved his arm around, looking at the warm fires covering it. The fires that were so strong, physically pushing anything they came into contact with.   
_ 'How much control do I have?' _   
A fist slammed against the floor of the cage dented it. He had barely even felt the impact. Touching his hands together, on the other hand, felt totally normal.   
_ 'I am cold, and I can cover myself in fire. This works.' _   
It would if he was willing to risk it. As it was, he doubted this cage was intended as a death sentence, so someone would probably be along in the morning. It would not do to be found covered in blue fire. Or as a Night Fury, if the transformation completed itself once he was not awake to impose this odd halfway state.   
_ 'Storm, I must focus on Storm. What is my first move?' _   
Trust this inner voice to get him back on track. It was a good question. He still did not know where Storm had been taken, or who had bought her.   
_ 'Finding the parchment will be tricky. Finding someone who knows will be easier.' _   
But the parchment was probably his safer and more morally acceptable option.   
_ 'As if I care about that.' _   
That didn't seem quite right.   
_ 'Hunters have sacrificed their right to my consideration by being what they are. I will not hold myself back. No longer.' _   
It was true, but he still felt some lingering doubt about that.   
_ 'Storm. If I want to get to her, to free her, I cannot limit myself. I will not become like Vithvarandi, but I cannot shun these powers either.' _   
Fine. Maybe not as a first resort, but he would no longer hesitate.   
_ 'Do I need motivation? Fine. Hunters killed Spark. Hunters killed Beryl. Hunters killed Herb. Hunters killed Thorn. Their deaths are on the hands of all dragon hunters.' _   
Ember growled angrily, ignoring the pain it caused his human throat. This voice in his head was only saying what he already knew. It was true.   
_ 'But revenge cannot come between me and my goal. Storm.' _   
Also true.   
_ 'I will at some point be removed from this cage.' _   
When that happened, he would be ready to take advantage of whatever situation he found himself in. He still needed information.   
O-O-O-O-O   
Morning dawned, a sickly and pale glow that came under the tarp. The light felt old, pained. Or maybe that was just Ember.   
The voice he had at some point named Instinct had quieted, though it was not gone. He could feel it, waiting, ready to speak his mind. An odd feeling, and one that did not make him feel any less utterly alone.   
His heart felt cold, broken, empty. That was to be expected. He was only still here because someone needed him. He did not have to enjoy it. The metaphorical ice that encased his chest dulled the pain.   
The literal ice around him, condensation from his breath, was far less useful. He had probably escaped frostbite by retreating within his somewhat insulated clothing and using his fire to warm himself every hour, but he was freezing, hungry, and tired in a way that was definitely as much emotional as it was physical.   
All in all, he was not in a good mood. The tarp was pulled up, and more of that sickly light invaded his cage.   
"Yeh look like death warmed up." The guard observed.   
Ember did not answer.    
"I'm bringin' ya to Viggo. He wanted to question you 'imself."   
_ 'What, does he expect me to stand?' _   
Ember stood. That seemed to be what the guard was waiting for because as soon as he did the guard unlocked the cage, and a wall of bars swung outwards. He had decided to go along with this. Viggo might know, might be convinced to give him the information he needed.   
The guard led him through the rows of cages, taking him to the front of a tall, two-story building. On the doorstep stood the bald-headed auctioneer from the night before.   
Ember had a flashback to that moment in which the auctioneer had officially sold his family to Krogan.   
_ 'I want to rip his head off.' _   
With some effort, Ember resisted acting on that impulse. Hearing that voice say it straight-out was disconcerting, but it was again nothing but the truth. Storm was more important. She was hopefully still alive. He could not endanger his last purpose needlessly.   
"Eh, he don't look like much." The man Ember was becoming certain was Viggo grunted. There must be quite a sharp mind hidden behind that solid and somewhat simple exterior.   
"Ryker." The door swung open, and a well-groomed man with sharp eyes and brown hair quickly took in all present.   
_ 'Nope, that's definitely Viggo.' _   
There was no way the bald-headed man was Viggo, not when faced with this far more suitable candidate. Viggo had an aura of sorts, one that screamed danger, far more than the physically imposing guards or the bald man.   
_ 'I might have a similar aura, but only if one looks closely. Skinny one-legged boys with old eyes don't look dangerous from a distance.' _   
A moment passed in which Viggo and Ember's eyes met. Ember did not let his expression change. Let Viggo see what he would. It was only mildly gratifying when Viggo broke first, glancing up at the bald man.   
"I do believe this will be an interesting conversation, brother. You should listen in." Viggo turned and walked back into the building without another word. The guard pushed Ember forward, following him.   
They stopped in a large room, one that surely took up the bulk of the bottom floor. In the center stood a circular table, with a very detailed model of the island and the sea stack defenses on top.   
_ 'Impressive.' _   
Ember involuntarily strode forward, looking at the details. They were not all right, but the only way to know that was to look at the island from above, as he had. For obvious reasons, that was not something Viggo was capable of.   
"Leave us." Viggo waited until the guard was out of the room before continuing. "Last night, a man was found dead."   
Ember gave nothing away, his gaze not moving from the model on the table. He was not here to be convicted of murder.   
"Oddly," and at this Ember noticed that the bald-headed man seemed interested, listening to Viggo as if this was news, "the corpse was that of someone I knew. A freelance problem solver, of sorts. One who specialized in dealing with spies."   
It made sense that Viggo would know that. Ember looked up from the model, well aware that his interest, though purely superficial in reality, could be taken quite the wrong way.   
"Relax, no spy would be so blatant about it." Viggo gestured towards the model. "I would have known you by your _ lack _ of interest. That," and at that his voice became cold, "is not what interests me. The man was found with a dagger wound to the heart, and smashed wrists."   
"What of that?" The bald man asked, breaking his silence. "Someone gave him a taste of his own medicine."   
"In the time between when he was seen dragging a one-legged teen into the building and the time the teen was seen leaving as if nothing had happened, after a quite pained scream was audible for several blocks?" Viggo smiled. "That does not add up."   
_ 'So, he knows I was there. He does not, however, seem to believe I was involved, at least not directly.' _   
"How much time?" The bald-headed man asked carefully.   
"No more than a minute." Viggo laughed. "Ryker, do not let your shock be so easily seen." He turned to Ember. "And you, my boy, were seen leaving, running from the guards. What is your name?"   
"Ember." No reason to lie, especially when it would likely be taken as a false name anyway.   
"Let us pretend that is true," Viggo agreed amiably. "I must ask what that particular operative wanted with you."   
How to spin this? Ember did not particularly care what Viggo thought had happened, but he would rather be let out of the cell than have to break out. "Someone gave me to him because I wanted to see a dragon they had bought. They thought I was a spy." As much of the truth as was safe.   
"You seem like a bright boy. Details, I need details." Viggo tapped a finger on the table. "What kind of dragon?"   
"Night Fury." Ember tried to make himself sound curious. "I never seen one before."   
Viggo abruptly scowled. "You are going to have to do much better than that pathetic excuse for a persona, Ember." His voice was mocking. "The abrupt change in speaking style was obvious. You are most certainly no spy, to be that bad at acting."   
_ 'Or maybe I'm letting you think that to hide the fact that I'm dead inside and only here because I have one last thing to do. The best cover is one that was "discovered" by the searcher and assumed to be true because it had been hidden.' _   
Ember shivered at that particular comment. He didn't like it said that plainly, but that voice had no filter. It was a good thing only he could hear it. He remained silent.   
"You are only here," Viggo continued, "because I have not yet run into a puzzle I cannot solve. This is an interesting one, but one I will invariably crack. You are implicated in the murder of a somewhat useful operative. I can have you executed at any time."   
Ember laughed sourly. "This is your island. That is true whether or not I am implicated in anything. No one would stop you."   
"Very true, and very observant." Viggo stared at Ember a bit more consideringly. "You are not naive, at least. Tell me, why are you here? This island."   
The truth once more? "I came to find out one specific piece of information."   
"Have you?" Viggo seemed intrigued.    
"Not yet." Ember shrugged. "You could tell me."   
"I probably could, if you think I know it." Viggo moved over to the model, absently moving a small Viking ship that was set at the docks. "However, I do not know what you are yet. When a new piece is placed upon the board, with unknown allegiances and capabilities, it is wise to be cautious."   
"My allegiance, I will freely admit, is to no one." Ember smiled, a dark expression though he had not intended it as such. "Does that reassure you?"   
Viggo stared at him strangely before answering. "Not in the slightest. A new piece is interesting, but a new player, however inconsequential, is worrying."   
Ember knew he had probably said too much. His self-control was thin and weak, it seemed. This game Viggo was playing, it was not one he was at the moment entirely capable of playing as he would like. Mostly the truth did seem to be working though.   
They stood there in silence for a moment.   
_ 'I have nothing to lose. I should just ask. He might just tell me. _ '   
"You sold a blue and grey Night Fury." Ember did not stop when Viggo looked up, his gaze sharp. "I need to know to who, and I need proof that what you tell me is the truth."   
"You expect an answer?" Viggo seemed to be speaking as much to himself as to Ember, looking troubled. "Especially to such an easily answered question." He looked up. "Take him back to that cage. We will wait and see if a few days in the cold, with no food or water, can bring out the truth."   
_ 'He knows that I have secrets. This will not work, but it would on anyone else.' _   
Ember did not protest as he was taken away, and put back into the cage. That had failed.   
_ 'I should have killed him. Who else could have ordered the attack on Krogan?' _   
Maybe that voice wasn't as involuntary as he thought. If it had reminded him of that obvious connection in Viggo's presence, he would have snapped. As it was, no one cared if he raged and cursed for no discernable reason. His apparent imprisonment was enough of an excuse. But when he calmed down, he was glad he had not taken that irreversible step. It would have thrown the island into chaos, and he still needed to know who had Storm, and where.

Although killing Viggo and taking his memories would have given him that information… he was still not thinking clearly, as that had not occurred to him in the moment. Now the opportunity was gone.   
O-O-O-O-O   
"Brother." Ryker stood respectfully, having returned from locking...  _ Ember _ back in the cage.   
Viggo sighed, not looking at his older and infinitely less competent sibling. That cage was specially designed for human prisoners, intended to seem as if it was hastily repurposed for holding them, placed in the middle of the dragons. It was supposed to instill them with a sense of being degraded, a fear of the murderous beasts around them. He had detained five hardened criminals there overnight at one time or another, and regardless of other factors, they had all asked or begged to be put somewhere else. It was freezing and isolated.   
Ember had shown some of the physical effects, but none the mental. It was a worrying little sign that on its own could be ignored. If only it was on its own.   
"Why do we care?" Ryker seemed confused, which was sadly a common emotion when Viggo was concerned. His brother was adequate, if only at what he understood, but such subtleties escaped him.   
"I will lay this out for you." Viggo leaned over his model of the island, pointing at the docks. "Last night, we struck a blow at Drago, one of high significance. Krogan is dead, and we succeeded in draining his funds beforehand to boot. A small, but not insignificant, portion of Drago's wealth."   
"What about the Night Furies?" Ryker sounded worried. "Did we keep them too?"   
"Every trap must have bait, and in most cases a sacrifice." Viggo sighed. "No, they went down with the ship. It is too cold to even try and recover the bodies."   
Ryker looked skeptical. Viggo supposed he couldn't blame his brother for that. It was a bit annoying though when he was actually telling the truth. There had been no secret switch, no maneuver on his part to save the valuable beasts. They were undoubtedly at the bottom of the ocean, along with Krogan. It had been necessary, to give Drago reason to believe, when word of the event reached him, that it had not been Viggo's doing. That would be a tough sell, but the apparent flaw in the plan of losing the Night Furies made it possible. Viggo had cultivated a reputation for perfectly executed plans. Losing the Night Furies most definitely did not count, and thus he could deny it with some confidence that he would believed. It was not yet time to openly move against Drago.   
Viggo continued his recount of the night's events, his finger moving to the unmarked building Thranduil had used to do his interrogations. "At almost the exact same time, this entire incident with Thranduil occurred. Ember is far more than he seems."   
"Seems like a bratty child to me." Ryker crossed his arms.   
"And that, brother, is where you couldn't be any more wrong." Viggo considered how much to reveal. "I am positive he is the one who killed Thranduil. Crushed wrists and all. His face revealed no surprise at that detail."   
There was far more to that. Ember's face had been quite well-controlled, revealing almost nothing. What it did reveal, however, was troubling. The boy played a strange game of truth, speaking as he did. Viggo was fairly certain that, aside from that attempt at a flat-out lie which he had stopped in its tracks as a warning, Ember did not lie. The death of Thranduil gave Viggo reason to take the boy seriously.   
"I want you to triple his guards, the hidden ones out of reach of the cage," Viggo spoke decisively. "This is one mystery I might need him alive and in my possession to solve." A new player, one who professed no allegiance, one with strangely dark and solemn eyes. One who took physical discomfort as nothing but an annoyance, and played as if there were no stakes.   
He knew those symptoms, but the boy was far too young for that particular mental affliction, the lack of attachment to life old warriors sometimes suffered if they had nothing left in the world. A puzzle, and one he did not yet quite understand. It was clear the boy was not on his side, but from the question he asked, if it was genuine, he was not on Drago's side either... or particularly well informed.   
That, in turn, implied that Ember was a newcomer to this game, one who might not know the stakes. If that was the case, the boy must have some smaller goal, a perceived slight or injustice to correct, or a petty rivalry to win.   
He had asked of the Night Fury. Maybe it had been his goal? He had also spoken of wanting to see them, in his brief and feeble attempt at deception.   
Something rang true there, but what? The boy did not seem like the type to set his heart on killing a dragon.   
Was it possible it was revenge? The boy was missing a leg, after all. Maybe a Night Fury bit it off.   
That was even less likely, and very possibly a bias on Viggo's part. One man's origin story did not make that particular path in life any more likely for others.   
Viggo tried to clear his mind and focus on a more important matter. The war that was coming.   
"What of Drago?" He spoke to Ryker. Their informant had been due to arrive the day before, but Viggo had yet to hear the report.   
"He travels but is heading back to his stronghold. There is word of Eret too, though mostly rumor. The man is far too well-known to separate the two, according to our informant." Ryker did not sound pleased with that.   
"Krogan very likely planned on meeting Drago at the stronghold." Viggo pulled out a map from under the table, spreading it to reveal a circle that seemed to center around a mountainous island. "The man's stronghold is quite... impressive." Paranoia at its finest, just like this island. They were probably not equal in intelligence, but Drago knew war. Viggo would prefer to remain focused on the business part of his empire, but Drago made that suicide. Like a village defending against dragon raids, Viggo could not afford to ignore the dragon's movements.    
It was an apt metaphor. Drago seemed to be preparing for a push in Viggo's direction. If he wanted war, he would get it with that move. This strike on Krogan was just a warning. One Viggo really wished he had prepared when the lackey known as Krogan bought that blue and grey Night Fury. He had no idea why Drago wanted it, but the mere fact that he did made preventing him from getting it desirable.   
Ember, as the boy had called himself, wanted that Night Fury too. Maybe he and Drago would be enemies?   
It might be folly to consider his worst enemy and a boy who had killed a man equals, both capable of being dangerous on the same level. Drago, it was said, could read hearts, if not minds. Viggo had sent a test, of sorts, long ago, just to disprove that, back when he and Drago were not enemies, if not friends. Drago had sent his test back alive, unharmed, and completely broken inside. Whatever Drago saw in that man, he had used it to tear his mind apart far more efficiently than Viggo would have thought possible. Viggo knew for a fact that the claim that Drago could break anyone with words alone was the truth.   
Viggo did not like the supernatural, but he was not stupid enough to ignore proven incidents. Drago was proven. Viggo would not ever take the risk of encountering the man face-to-face. It was impossible to predict how that would end, and he did not like what he could not predict.   
Ember. There was something, someone he hadn't predicted. In all likelihood, the boy would soon reveal his secrets, whatever those might be, broken by cold and thirst, but Viggo still felt a twinge of unease. He did not like what he did not understand.

**_Author’s Note:_ ** **So, Ember’s not in a good way right now. If anyone finds that inner voice annoying, bear with us, it’s going to go away pretty soon, once Ember figures out that taking his own opinion as a second opinion might not be a safe thing to do…**


	7. Execution

One last goal, a cage, and a time limit, of sorts.

Water would be his limiting factor, the thing that made him act. Viggo had spoken of not giving him any, and that would eventually end him. He had to leave before then.  
 _'Get out, get that parchment or someone who has seen it, and leave.'_  
Three steps. He needed to hide what he was, which might make things more difficult, as always. But letting Viggo know anything about what he could do was a risk he did not want to take. That man was far too smart to mess with unnecessarily.  
 _'Dead men tell no tales.'_  
It was a strategy he had never consciously used before. No need to hide his abilities if all who saw them died. Anywhere else, it would be horribly immoral.  
 _'Not here, an island of hunters. It will be easy.'_  
It would, and he was not going to hold back any longer. But it still wasn't the best thing to use exclusively. Only if it made sense.  
 _'Besides, I need some insurance.'_ _  
_That was a much less palatable thought, and one he consciously rejected. He might acquire that insurance, but seeking it out in itself was crossing a line. He would not become Vithvarandi.  
 _'No. That is one of the few lines I have left.'_  
Insurance meant spare bodies, lives taken that could be sacrificed. He might get some in the course of his escape, and could certainly benefit from an inconspicuous face during steps two and three of his plan. As long as he did not seek them out, and removed them once all of this was over, it was an acceptable evil.  
 _'Many things are acceptable when I have no one to judge me, but I will still judge myself, likely harsher than anyone else could.'_  
That was true, as only he knew his own motivations. Whether or not his powers were evil depended heavily on why he used them and to what ends he used them for.  
 _'Now, down to business. Time to trash this cage.'_  
It would be a bit more complicated than that, but in essence, yes. Time to trash the cage.  
O-O-O-O-O  
Listening carefully determined that there was no one within earshot, save for the silent guards he would by logic have. The logic of dealing with a paranoid captor, that was. Best to assume they would see anything he did outside the cage. He could not openly use his powers when there might be someone he did not know about observing. Dead men told no tales, but only if he knew to kill them.  
 _'Luckily, I don't need my powers to kill. They just make it more efficient.'_  
Ember really didn't like the voice in his head sometimes. There were things he knew but hated to hear spoken. That was one of them.  
 _'But I hate hearing them because I know that on some level I truly believe most of them.'_  
That was interesting, though he might be reading too much into it. Only most of them? A question for later.  
So, no guards within close range, but probably a few around. With some difficulty, Ember managed to trigger that odd half-way state.  
 _'It seems that I need to disagree with myself. That's easy with my fractured mind, though I don't like the implications. Best not to think about it.'_  
Yes, best not to. He left the flames at around his elbows, spanning his forearms. He could break the cage open if he wanted, but that wasn't the best way to go about this.  
A quick movement put his flame-wreathed hand through one of the larger gaps in the grid-pattern bars. Carefully running his fingers along the edges did not produce much noise, but it did gradually widen the gap.   
_'All of this is hidden by the tarp. Stupid of them, to voluntarily obstruct their view of a prisoner.'_  
That was why it was a better option than simply slamming his arms against the sides. It was slow, much slower than brute force would be...  
 _'... and isn't that odd, to think of brute force in regards to my weak human body...'_  
...but it was subtle. The section he had chosen to widen was near the ground, and he only had to widen it enough to crawl through. Given his small frame, that wasn't hard.  
Once he was done, he reversed the transformation and armed himself, removing the small knife from his prosthetic.  
_'Even my foot is dangerous. I still can't believe people don't think to check the prosthetics of prisoners.'_  
The rest of his weapons had been taken when he was tossed into the cell the night before.  
 _'And dumped in a pile outside. I might consider Viggo smart, but his guards are most definitely not.'_  
Ember backed slowly through the hole, keeping himself against the outside of the cage as much as possible, to minimize the inevitable bump his body made in the profile of the tarp. Eventually, though he moved excruciatingly slowly, he was completely on the outside, flat against the side of his would-be prison.  
 _'Should I take the time to bend the bars back? No, that would be preparing for failure.'_  
He couldn't afford to fail.  
 _'Maybe if I had learned that and a few other lessons earlier-'_  
With an extremely forceful push, Ember succeeded in quieting that voice he had named Instinct. It came back as soon as he stopped trying, but it was fainter, less real somehow.  
He couldn't afford to quiet it entirely. It was clarity, and a way to know his own motivations. So, he left it as it was, in the place he had pushed it.  
 _'I don't want to be alone. But this voice isn't another person, and it doesn't help.'_  
It was exceedingly strange to hear his internal monologue... about his internal monologue. Time to think about anything else. The voice had quieted, so that much was good.  
The next steps were going to get crazy. If he was a paranoid businessman with a prisoner, where would he put his guards? Out of sight of the cage, but not where they couldn't see it themselves. In positions that created a perimeter around the cage, so any escape would be caught, forced to pass by them.  
 _'And I still need my knives.'_  
Ember had already thought about that. He had picked this side of the cage to escape from for a reason. The pile of knives, if he hadn't at some point messed up and gotten turned around, was a few feet out from where he was.  
This was a necessary risk. It was possible, likely even, that he would be seen when he went for his weapons. The trick was, he needed to look weak enough that his hypothetically watching guards came to stop him themselves, instead of going for help and alerting others. It really wouldn't be difficult, given all they saw was a weak teenager.  
Ember held the knife at head level and took a deep breath.  
 _'I will do whatever it takes.'_  
Ember quickly slashed the tarp down to his knees in a single motion, pushing through the cut and running the five or so steps to the pile of knives, the freezing cold snow already getting into his boot.  
Three seconds. That was all it took to get to the pile. Ember, knowing he had to make it look just right, quickly scanned the area as he began replacing knives in their sheaths, despite knowing the futility of that action.  
What did he look like, from the outside? A desperate, weak prisoner attempting an escape, a boy taking back the pointlessly large collection of knives that, in his case, seemed further proof of the futility of his actions.  
How many guards would he have? He had no idea. That ruled out most of his paths of action.  
One came into sight, walking towards him, sword in hand. Ember had played his part well if the guard didn't even feel enough urgency to run.  
Because what could a boy with a few small blades do?  
Ember made a show of grabbing the last two knives, having slid the small one into an unoccupied sheath. He turned, seeing that there were two other guards approaching from the sides.  
It appeared they had him cornered.  
 _'I would call them fools, but it is not their fault I will not be stopped, and they cannot possibly know that.'_  
They were hunters. He would not be stopped. They could not be allowed to raise the alarm.  
Night Furies never missed.  
They had allowed him to retrieve almost a dozen throwing knives.  
Three quick throws, the last only slightly delayed by having to pull out another knife. That last hunter had begun to charge. So much for the better.  
Ember did not look to see exactly where his knives had landed, even as he quickly retrieved them, as it did not matter, the result was the same. He would not feel any remorse.  
 _'Not for hunters. They chose this path, not me.'_  
Saving Storm. That was all that mattered now.  
A feeling in the air. Ember was fairly certain that had not been all of the guards. How did he know?  
 _'A grid-like pattern, four sides, but only three guards. There would be a fourth.'_  
As that fourth did not come, even when he stood and waited for a few seconds, alone in the snow that was beginning to be stained red in a few places, he had to assume the final guard had been smarter than his counterparts, and was either watching even now or going to sound the alarm.  
Time. Now it was a race against time, a race to find what he needed and leave before the island descended into chaos.  
It was a predictable chain of events. There would be an ever-widening search as long as he, Ember, was unaccounted for. Even if he happened to take the body of one of the guards, which he had not yet, that guard would inevitably be pulled into the search, limiting his freedom almost as effectively as being in that cage. There was also the danger that, as taken memories were not entirely absorbed for all but the first kill, rather seen and remembered second-hand, his impersonation of the guard in question, while very near perfect, was not infallible.  
No, he needed to be quick in either case.   
An idea occurred to him. This place, these rows upon rows of cages. He needed to get out, and he could run on the ground, or...  
Ember's cage had been unique in that it had not directly abutted other cages. The cages were lined up in rows, long mostly unbroken rows. The few breaks that existed for passage from one row to another were large, but not quite large enough to be an issue. To make things even better, the ambient heat of the occupied cages had prevented snow from building up on top of them, as opposed to the ground paths, which had not yet been cleared.  
Ember went to the nearest occupied cage. Pulling the tarp aside, he found a sleeping Zippleback.  
 _'I would free you, friend, but there is no way to get you away from here. It hurts to leave any dragon, but I know I must accept it. I cannot save everyone. I can barely save myself.'_  
The Zippleback did not wake as Ember pulled himself up to the top of the cage, using the now slack tarp as a rope of sorts. The top of the cage was mostly clear, only a little slush that was unable to freeze pooled in the folds of the tarp.  
From there, Ember could see a clear, unobstructed road to the rest of the island, a high path of cage tops. He would leave no tracks in the snow, would not be seen unless someone looked up. It was likely that would happen, but it gave him far more of a head start than they would be expecting to have to deal with. The plan of any guards that unseen fourth had rallied in this short time would not hold up to this.  
 _'Once Viggo gets involved, I'll have a much harder time. I'm not sure if I can outthink him, not on his territory.'_  
With that sobering thought, he ran, leaping the gaps and placing his feet carefully, being sure not to slip. His footsteps, leather and iron in alternation, were only slightly muffled by the tarp stretched over metal, and a chorus of sleepy and confused growl followed in his wake as he woke the occupants of some cages. He was, by design, forced to only run on occupied cages, as the unoccupied ones had snow on top, and would slow him dramatically.  
Shouts had just begun to echo through the chilled air when Ember dropped off the final cage in a row on the outskirts of the area. Grim buildings, wet wood, and slush piled high in corners bordering the green metal field.  
A growl echoed behind him from the cage he had dropped off of, but Ember did not bother to turn or respond to the wordless challenge. He had heard the voicing of confusion as he ran, though none of the captured dragons had made the improbable leap of reasoning to a prisoner escaping in time to say much else before he was gone. This dragon was no better.  
 _'They have given up, been subdued by cold and who knows what else. I cannot call them weak, but I do not pity them when they no longer resist. I would rather die than bow like that. Then again, I would rather die, period.'_  
Not until he had saved Storm, not until there was no longer anything to keep him here.  
Ember forced himself to slow to a walk, thinking frantically as he did. He could not attract any more attention, not from the random passerby and guards on the street, many of which would probably try to stop him if they knew he was an escaped prisoner.  
For the moment, looking around, it seemed part one, escape the cage, had succeeded. On to part two.  
Who would know what he wanted? Viggo, or that old man. But there was an easier way.  
It appeared he had ended up somewhat near where he had started the night before. These particular streets looked familiar, though it was mid-morning now, not near nightfall. The thick cloud cover and grey ambient light made that far less of a difference than one might expect.  
That meant that he knew how to get back to that records building, and he had seen exactly which day and therefore which box needed to be searched. The only problem was, he didn't know if the parchment had been put back yet.  
Still, it was something to do that did not involve wandering aimlessly across a large, hostile island in search of one man among hundreds, even thousands of others.  
Making his way to that building was not as easy this time around. Apparently, that fourth guard had gone straight to Viggo, if the speed at which real patrols had been instituted was any indication. Guards searched the streets in pairs. That would not have been too much of an issue, but killing them in sight of any of the many passersby would have been the equivalent of holding up a large red flag that said 'Viggo wants me! Take me to your boss!'  
 _'Sarcasm and dry humor are poor substitutes for coping with my issues and nervousness, but they're all I have sometimes.'_  
That wasn't very helpful.  
In order to avoid the patrols, Ember had to move slowly, hiding his admittedly small form behind the crowds as each patrol passed. It was a dangerous, uncertain game he played, only aided by the fact that there were just so many people around, and almost all of them much larger than him. A game of cat and mouse, or dragon and sheep if he wanted a more accurate analogy.  
Still, it was doable, and he by degrees made his way to the records building, for the second time in two days.  
 _'I hate this place.'_  
Well, that was no surprise whatsoever. Ember had no trouble slipping inside.  
The trouble started the moment he closed the door. More accurately, the moment the other occupants of the building noticed him entering.  
"Yer not supposed to be in here." The guard, not the same one from the night before, judging by the voice, hefted a small ax.  
Ember frowned, putting a hand to the hilt of one of his knives. He looked over the guard's shoulder, to see if there were any other hunters in the building.  
 _'This is convenient. Does that guy ever sleep?'_  
There was a table that hadn't been there before, and that same old man, looking very tired, was slowly writing in painstakingly regular letters, probably working on all the sales that had occurred the night before. The man didn't even look up.  
Ember made a split-second decision and drew his knives.  
 _'Not my first resort. I cannot let this become my default reaction.'_  
"Drop your weapon or suffer the consequences. You'll get no second warning," Ember threatened, trying to sound as confident as possible. He could offer his guards no quarter, but here he could afford to be merciful.  
The hunter, however, was in no mood to accept that mercy, the mercy he probably saw as an overconfident insult. He attacked, clearly trying to disarm Ember, to force him to block and probably drop his knives.  
Ember ducked, sighed in resignation, and threw both knives after dodging to the side to create space. The man toppled like an old tree finally felled by a storm, hitting the floor with a solid thud.  
Only then did the old man look up, his eyes slowly widening. That expression of fear abruptly turned to disgust and then sickened horror as Ember retrieved his knives.  
A Night Fury never missed. One to each eye. There was a reason Ember tried not to look as he took his weapons back. He did not, and probably would never have a strong stomach, to see things like that and not be affected.  
"Don't move." Ember waved a bloody knife at the man. "I'm not here to kill you," although that was one way he could get the information he needed, "unless I cannot find what I am looking for."  
"I'm not a fighter, just tell me what you want. I can help you find it, save you time!" The old man was literally shivering in fear, his hands raised.  
 _'I do not hate him. He is not working for a good person or doing something good with his life, but he probably doesn't know that. I envy his ignorance, in a way.'_  
"I know where it should be." Ember pointed at the box he needed. "You can get it." Having the old man get the box meant that he would not have to put his knives away to take the box down, or turn his back on the terrified old man, who would run away and out of the building at the first opportunity.  
The man did as told, though he had some trouble lowering the heavy box off of the shelf.  
"I need the summary sheet that speaks of the Night Fury." Ember figured he might as well let the one who organized the boxes get it too. It would save time.  
But the old man did not move, his eyes filled with fear. "Viggo still has it, I took it out last night. You have to believe me, it isn't here!"  
"I know." Ember did not know why he felt sorry for this man, one among thousands, but he did, so he spoke calmly. "All I need to know is who she was sold to and where they were from. Speak truly and I will not harm you, you have my word."  
That seemed to reassure him, if only slightly. "The Night Fury was sold to Krogan, for quite a high price. Krogan works for Drago." The man cringed. "That's all I know! They don't tell us where they're going, they have no reason to!"  
"Where does he usually go?" Krogan made multiple visits here, was a regular. It was possible-  
"I don't know! I'm just a records-keeper, I don't even see the docks most days." The old man was as far from Ember as it was possible to be, holding a charcoal pencil as if it was a sword.  
Ember considered that.  
 _'He is not lying, as he has reason to believe I already know. I knew about Viggo taking the parchment, and he doesn't know how I knew. It is too dangerous for him to lie.'_  
"Thank you for your cooperation." Ember turned towards the door, before thinking of something. "Viggo will ask you what happened once he knows I was here. He does not have to know you helped me. On the other hand, you could tell him everything. I don't know which he is more likely to believe." With that, he slipped out of the building.  
A complication. Ember knew who, but not where.  
 _'It figures, Krogan died with my family. Viggo has done more harm to me and my goals than anyone save for Krogan or Drago.'_  
There was a lot of reasoning behind that truth. Drago and Krogan were why his family had been in a position for Viggo to strike at in the first place, but Viggo was the one who had struck, and the one in charge of those who had captured all of the Night Furies involved. Three men he hated.  
'Four. I hold a share of the blame as well.'  
He needed to focus. Storm. He knew who, but not where. If Krogan worked for Drago, odds were Storm had been taken to him.  
Drago seemed to be a big name around here. Him and the Collector, whoever that was. It was possible Ember could find out where Storm would have been taken from someone on another island.  
 _'That is a slim chance I am considering because I do not want to stay here any longer. I do not trust myself to continue outwitting the searches for that much longer, not without revealing my power.'_  
With that known, Ember chose the harder path. He made his way to the docks, again following the same route as the day before. The dark alley was thankfully empty this time.  
 _'It hurts, to know I failed so utterly last night that I must retrace my steps and do everything again today.'_  
Who would know where Krogan was going? Ember had no idea, but the odds of finding someone were much higher here than anywhere else. If any of Krogan's crew-  
That was it. There had been survivors, sailors who would know, who would be here if they were anywhere.  
As Ember reached the docks, he saw that security was the most alert there. It made sense, as Viggo would assume Ember needed a ship to leave. No one boarded any ship without being checked by hunters.  
 _'That would be a smart plan, but he does not know what I am.'_  
Ember smiled. Viggo's first mistake. Assuming he needed a ship to leave.  
It was actually relatively simple to find the survivors of Krogan's ship. Ember only had to find someone who looked greedy, complain about one of Krogan's men owing him money, promise a cut of the profit if the man would point out the survivors, and then pay him out of pocket. Money for information, in a way that would not be remarked upon.   
_'It took all of my gold though. Worth it, to save time and frustration. Not like I need money.'_  
And so Ember approached a haggard, disheveled sailor with a despairing look to his face, sitting outside a tavern. Whatever money the man had possessed on him had clearly gone to drink, and he must have been kicked out after that.  
Ember crouched in front of the despondent drunk. "I need your help."  
"Screw you." The sailor made as if to spit in Ember's face.  
A knife was out and to the man's throat in an instant. Ember did not let his expression change. "Just information. Where were you taking the Night Furies?"  
"The ones at the bottom of the ocean, you mean?" The sailor sneered. "Things didn't make it out, I can tell ya that much. Viggo wasted a fortune. Thought 'e was supposed to be smart."  
Ember ignored the unintentional dagger twisted into his heart. The man hadn't known it would hurt like that, hadn't meant it. That was what he told himself to keep his fragile control. "Where?"  
"Drago, idiot. Where else? His ship-" The man gulped as Ember's knife moved a bit closer, the tip almost drawing blood. "It was anchored at a port three weeks West of here. Ye can't miss it, it's massive."  
"My condolences for your loss of a job." Ember stood and turned away, ignoring the man's grumbled curses.  
 _'West. A ship. Odd, that he would go there.'_  
It was, but Ember supposed it could be a smart move to only have a moving base. Not such a smart move if said base was sunk. Regardless, he had a location.  
Making his way to an abandoned cliff that overlooked the ocean, a strip of land abutting an old house, was almost too easy. Although, it was a slow and painstaking task that took until well after dark, a time that came early here, under the threatening clouds. Viggo was concentrating his forces at the docks and probably drawing a net of sorts across the island. The end goal would be to herd Ember to the docks.  
"I'm coming for you, Storm." Ember shifted and flew away, gliding close to the water. The world was a cold, dark place now, unwarmed by his family and friends. The trip would be torturous, dangerous, lonely, and at the end, he would face another difficult task.  
 _'One last thing.'_  
He could and would bear it, for this was all there would be. No more, once he was done.  
O-O-O-O-O  
A strange thing. Viggo ran his hands along the bent and deformed bars. They were dragon-proof, an alloy that resisted almost any kind of fire, strong and tinted green by special components known to few men alive.  
And they were smashed aside like weak and malleable iron in a forge. There was evidence of scorching, but also evidence of pressure, what must be immense pressure, given that no heat strong enough to make these forged bars soft would fail to ignite the tarp a few inches away, though that was fire-proof to a degree.  
There was no more to be learned from this. Viggo stepped away, back out into the wind-swept night. The corpses had not been moved, by his orders, and had frozen, preserving them quite well.  
"A blade to the throat for these two," Ryker indicated two of the unlucky guards, "and one to the eye for him." He pointed at the other.  
Viggo took a moment to note the strange expression on Ryker's face, the one that had been present from the moment his brother had seen the bodies. "What do you think happened?"  
Ryker grunted, looking down at the blood-stained snow, and the footprints that could still be discerned. "I have no idea how he got out, but the way these bodies are spaced out, the lack of footprints... he threw all three blades. That's the only way they all went down without a fight."  
"Very good. I had deduced that myself." Viggo indicated the footprints leading away from the violence. "And then?"  
"He climbed on top of that cage." Ryker scowled. "No footprints, so he went from there. We have no way of knowing where he left the cage storage field, or where he went from there. The patrols found nothing, and he was not caught in the sweep. He has not left the island."  
"No," Viggo murmured quietly, "he should not have been able to leave." The failure of all measures intended to catch Ember was worrying. "All ships are accounted for?"  
"We aren't missing any of ours, and all the others were thoroughly searched. He's not on a ship." That was said quickly. "What of the other casualty?"  
"Ah, you are referring to the hunter assigned to the record-keeper." The record-keeper was an aggravating old man, but one with a purpose. The man was a genius when it came to catching discrepancies. Viggo might hold a reputation for being impossible to cheat among his men, but it was that old man's work that made it so.  
"Aye. Ember was going for the same information." Ryker's tone now held a hint of respect. It did not surprise Viggo that his brother now referred to Ember as such. Respect was easily earned with Ryker, and a boy who killed four men in pursuit of a goal was worthy of at least a little.  
Viggo was regretting not taking more time to speak with his prisoner while he'd had the chance. Ember, he knew in spite of all reason, was gone, whether by a personal boat hidden away or by some as of yet unknown method of hiding. It was how the game worked. Such an escape attempt, in a place like this, was doomed to failure or success quickly. It was not possible to hide for long on his island. He had made sure of that. A full day was very strong evidence that Ember had somehow made it out.  
That brought Viggo back to the one thing he still did not understand about the escape. The bars. The strong, if not infallible, bars. What had the boy done to bend them, alone and without any supplies?  
It was possible, if highly unlikely, that all of this was staged. An accomplice, one of great skill, could have come upon the cage from above as Ember had left, dropped down, killed the guards, and then used some method to free Ember. That would fit, that would make sense, except...  
The guards who had run. Ryker had ended up placing a total of five guards, two of which had come to Viggo and reported Ember's escape. They had said the boy killed the other three guards, just as Ryker had deduced. Unless both guards had been corrupted, which was highly unlikely given the punishment for such an infraction and the odds of getting caught, that explanation was disproved.  
"Question the two who reported this. Thoroughly." Viggo ordered that calmly, still thinking as he did that it was very unlikely. Best to be sure.  
Regardless, Ember had killed the one in the records building. He had, if Viggo's man was to be believed, asked the same question as earlier, and gotten an answer. The correct answer, no less.  
"What did you do?" Viggo whispered, still looking towards the cage. Yes, he had underestimated Ember. That was not a mistake he could afford to repeat.  
On the other hand, unless the information Ember had gone for was a misdirection...  
That possibility could not be ignored, though it did not seem to fit with Ember's use of the truth.  
If Ember really was going after that dragon, he would be out of Viggo's hands, probably for good. Drago was just as dangerous, if not more so with that odd ability that made Viggo wary of facing him. Ember would very likely face Drago.  
It troubled Viggo that he was not at all sure what Drago would find. Ember was an unknown, and now one proven to be quite dangerous.


	8. Manipulation

Breath out. Force his aching, weary muscles to push the air down, hold his tail straight despite feeling like just collapsing and letting gravity take over.

Breath in. Remember why he was here, where he was going, what he was doing. Drive back the hopeless despair, if only for a moment.

Repeat.

The hours passed in that way, on the journey West. Nights were temporary trips to Helheim. The cold, the snow, the wet, all of which was untempered by companions on this journey. Where before they had been the best part of the day, now the times between landing and sleep were torture, only bearable because he was able to engulf himself in flames every once in a while.

He could not go to sleep like that. As a dragon, he could survive the nights, if barely. As a human, death was just around the corner. He could not fall asleep while holding the fire back. That might end up with him asleep in his human form, as the transformation completed itself when he could no longer concentrate on holding it back.

The problem wasn't that it was dangerous, the problem was that it was tempting. So tempting. To just let the cold take one of his two bodies and to then allow it to take the other. He was truly unsure of what losing his human body, the only other one he had, would do. The power that allowed him to have several bodies had been dangerously unstable in the beginning, until he had taken another. It could return to that state and kill him.

That would be fine.

But he was not yet ready to go. That thought, that drive, was the only thing that kept him going those weeks. Through the biting wind that slipped around his scales, through the driving snow or hail that woke him every morning, through the cold in his heart that dulled everything.

His inner voice had gone quiet, driven away by his single-minded drive. It would return if he had something to think about.

Three weeks, the sailor had said. Under normal conditions, that would be about four times longer than it would take a dragon. These were not normal conditions, so three weeks was about right, if not optimistic.

Islands became larger and more varied as he left the empty zone around Viggo's island. Not that it mattered. The ocean, freezing and yet liquid though it was, provided food, and melted ice provided water.

It was not a journey that could ever be made as a human, or even at this level of desolation one doable by a dragon and rider, not without immense hardships.

Even as Ember, a large, powerful, and muscular Night Fury, he felt the effects. What had once consisted of fat, insulation, became lean, the excess energy tapped and used.

He could not see himself, but Ember was pretty sure he didn't look very healthy. Weaker, and near collapse from constant exhaustion. It did not matter. As long as he had the strength to do what needed to be done.

Days were terrible, evenings were torture... but sleep was no better. He did not dream, either nightmares or happy things. No, it was as if he closed his eyes for a long moment and then opened them, feeling only a bit less tired. There was no respite in sleep.

Only once on that journey did he meet another dragon. It saved his life.

O-O-O-O-O

It was a Timberjack, which he vaguely recognized from its sharp wing-edges and long neck. He had not approached it, but it had approached him, soaring alongside him as they passed over an oblong island, one with many snow-capped trees.

"This is a long way from anything." The Timberjack observed.

"It is." Ember coughed, his lungs pained and throat hoarse from the freezing air and little water.

"You look very bad." That was said sadly.

That was the only reason Ember had ever noticed his own deteriorating condition. Someone had pointed it out to him. That had raised enough curiosity to check later.

"I probably do." There was no harm in agreeing.

"Are you planning on sheltering here?" The Timberjack looked down. "I have no cave, but I do well enough with my wings." It flapped its extremely vast wings as if to emphasize that fact.

"No." He had considered stopping, but there was no reason to. He had eaten...

Was it yesterday? The day before? He forgot, sometimes. No matter. He would be fine.

"But..." The Timberjack seemed confused. "there is no land for a long way."

"How long?"

"A few hours."

"I will make it." Ember ignored his strained muscles and the odd feeling in his throat that was not going away as he spoke.

"You are not well." That was said abruptly as if the Timberjack had just noticed it. "What is wrong?"

Ember did not notice as he began spiraling downward towards the island below, shepherded by the Timberjack, forced to go down and around by the wings blocking any other path as they flew. "Nothing physical."

"But something." They were getting close to the ground.

"I must keep going."

"Why?"

Ember felt his paws impact cold snow. Cold, everything was so cold...

"Why?" The Timberjack did not sound as if it expected an answer. Ember realized, faintly, that he could no longer see the sky.

"I have nothing else..." It did not hurt to say, he was only repeating what his inner voice had said. "I must keep going." He was whispering, for some reason, unable to muster the strength to do more.

"You are too cold." The ambient light around him disappeared, and an odd sound filled the air, a gentle whoosh.

There was silence, for a while. Ember felt something he had not known in a long time, a lack of bone-numbing cold around him.

O-O-O-O-O

It was still warm when Ember stirred. He did not understand, at first, what had happened. The weather was not supposed to be warm and calm. Where was the biting wind, the driving snow, the sun that gave no heat, only bleak light? It was warm, dark, and dry here. Wherever here was.

"Welcome back." A thing moved in the comforting dark, two yellow eyes opened.

"Where?"

"My wings and my flame are the only things that kept you from death," the Timberjack noted neutrally from the dark.

"A death." Ember struggled to his feet, only to be pinned down by an unseen claw. "I need..."

"To explain why you are killing yourself." The Timberjack sighed sadly. "If that is what you intend then I will let you go, but otherwise you must explain."

"I'm not trying to kill myself." Not at the moment. He was not yet done with his last task.

"You were making a very good attempt." The Timberjack glared at him. "You seem unaware of your own health. I will not let you up until you are rested, as you do not seem capable of judging for yourself."

"I am not your responsibility," Ember objected feebly. He only had half a mind to resist at all.

"You are now," its tone brooked no argument, and the talon pushed gently down, "as I have just decided that you will not leave until you have recovered."

O-O-O-O-O

She had kept him there for five days. Ember, not knowing the species very well, hadn't even known her gender until the third day, when he got up both the strength and the curiosity to ask. Timberjacks had deep voices, it seemed.

It was true, she could not have physically kept him there, but she had asked him to swear not to leave until she gave permission. He had given his word, some part of him seeing the wisdom in that.

Five days of being treated like a brainless hatchling, not allowed to hunt or fish, not allowed to decide when he slept, or anything else. She had apparently raised many children and had decided he deserved to be treated no more respectfully, after how he had arrived.

Some part of him objected to losing control of his life, if even for a short time, but most of him had no problem letting someone else make the decisions for a while. The ice in his chest never receded, but the fog that had clouded the rest of his mind did lift as his health rebounded slightly. By the fifth day he was full, no longer dehydrated, and actually rested. Warm too, which was a pure impossibility only accomplished by consistent heat baths courtesy of the Timberjack's sauna-like way of sleeping.

"Three times a day in this weather," she had said, "and more if it is snowing. That is the only way to survive. I cannot let you go if you are incapable of doing the same."

Ember truly believed she would have held him there until thaw if he had not demonstrated the way he had survived, however imperfectly, as long as he had. She did not know Night Furies, and so accepted his transformation flames as something akin to a Monstrous Nightmare, though his level of control was a surprise to her.

Of course, he never showed her what those flames were meant to do. It felt wrong to admit what he was.

The five days he spent in the Timberjack's care, he allowed himself to forget, if only briefly, about the rest of his life. It was hard, and moments of despair still struck him, but it was easy enough to push those moments away simply by breaking one of her many rules. The resulting scolding and lecture gave him no room to brood.

He did not heal, but he did rebuild his own defenses for a while. They would be torn down soon enough, but hopefully, they would last long enough for him to complete his last task.

On the sixth day, she let him leave, though not without one final, sternly-worded lecture.

"No skipping meals!"

"I swear."

"Stop to drink at least five times a day."

"I swear."

"And remember, stop to heat yourself, or do it in midair if you can, every time you lose feeling in your wingtips, at least. Ideally, never let it get that bad."

"I swear." It was the only response she was accepting. He had tried to say 'I'll try', but that had not gone well at all.

"I have gone over sleep, rest, and mandatory no-fly days already..." The Timberjack seemed to be going over a list in her head, "which fish are best for energy, how to fish through the ice, was there anything else..?"

"I believe I will survive," Ember commented dryly, grinning.

"You had better, hatchling." She knew, as he had informed her many times, that he hated being called that, but had never stopped saying it. "You may go. But..."

"Yes?" Ember felt he owed her, far more than he could ever repay, but when he had said that, she had told him to obey her rules, and there would be no debt.

"If you do not want to, you do not have to... would you tell me what you will do, where you will go?" Her voice was pensive.

Should he? "I go to seek my sister, who is a captive to No-scaled-not-prey. I am the only one who can save her."

The Timberjack snorted. "Surely there is someone else. You should not try that alone."

Ember bowed his head. "I was not alone, in the beginning. I am the only one left." It hurt, but he could bear it.

"Oh. I understand now. Who did you lose, if I may?" She lowered her head, listening closely.

"My Sire, my Dam, and my two adult sons. My mate I lost a long time ago." This was a way to repay her, though she insisted upon there being no debt owed. He could tell her the thing that hurt so badly to say. She deserved to know if she wanted to. "My sister is all I have left, and she does not know me."

"You were correct," the Timberjack observed sadly, "your wounds are not ones I can heal."

"But you did take away the pain for a time." Ember purred despite the sadness. "I do thank you for that."

"I will not wish you safe travels for you will not get them, but luck you will surely need. I wish you luck."

"And you." Ember bowed his head.

He leaped into the sky, newly determined to continue. To save Storm, whatever the cost, if only so that the Timberjack's care would not be in vain.

O-O-O-O-O

Those five days had been entirely necessary, a delay he could not avoid, one that kept him alive and gave him the strength to continue. He could not find it within himself to regret them, even as he reached the first inhabited island he had seen, saw what must be the port the sailor had described, and knew in his heart, cold and realistic, that Drago's ship was gone.

Ember landed on the outskirts of the island, in the ever-present snow, and after a moment of deliberation shifted to his human form. It had been a while since he had walked on two legs, but fifteen years of experience meant that made no difference. The snow was unpleasantly wet on his legs though. He quickly tramped a path to the port itself.

There was a tavern, but given that he was looking for specific, time and direction-based information, Ember decided to question someone sober instead. So, he looked around, hoping to spot some sort of dock master, the inevitable head of operations, the position vital for the functioning of such a busy place.

As he looked, wandering the docks, Ember noticed that there seemed to be an aura of... was it relief? There was a feeling in the air as if a breath long held had just been released, a pressure relaxed.

Given his luck, that was probably a result of Drago's departure. Of course, the ship he was going after could somehow impart a feeling of dread to a whole port. Things would just be too easy otherwise.

There was no deep comment on his use of sarcasm. During his time with the Timberjack, Ember had made the decision to suppress Instinct's voice as much as possible, to push it as far into obscurity as he could. He no longer heard it at all, though he could still feel it somewhere in the back of his mind, like a whisper just soft enough to be undecipherable.

He had gotten rid of it because while it was right, it told him nothing he did not already know. Agreeing with himself, taking his own opinion as a second opinion, was not safe at all. Being under the Timberjack's care had shown him that it was often the voice he disagreed with that was worth listening to, not one that agreed with and reinforced anything he thought.

It did not make him feel any more alone, for he had lost nothing in ridding himself of it. Less confident though? Definitely.

Eventually, Ember decided to ask the man in charge of unloading cargo his questions. He approached the broad man, noting with a wince that the man had lungs to match his size.

"Yeah?!" The man yelled in Ember's face, before lowering his voice. "I'm kinda busy kid, so if yeh don't mind-"

"I need to know when Drago's ship left, and what direction it was going." Ember would accommodate the man by being as brief as possible.

"Yer crazy." The man waved a finger in circles around his ear, rolling his eyes. "We jus' got rid o' that nutter!"

"I still need to know." Ember crossed his arms. "Please?"

"Boy, I've seen plenty of people like you." The man seemed to make a decision, abruptly twisting to look behind him, his voice returning to top volume. "Oy! Five-minute break!" There was a noise of general relief from the workers, but the man did not seem to notice.

"People like me." Ember deadpanned. No, that was very much not true.

"Yeh, kids lookin' to make their fortune workin' for that warlord." The man held a hand out, waving it mockingly. "They wanna conquer the world! Or at least be along for the ride. Drago's organization chews them up and spits them out. Ya gotta be a hardened killer to even get yer foot in the door."

Ember frowned. "I do not want to work for him."

"Then why?" The man crossed his eyes expressively. "Ya crazy? Wanna get yerself killed and fed to dragons?"

Ember snorted in amusement. He liked this guy, even if he wasn't being helpful at all. A bit like Gobber, just with a different job. "I just need to know."

"Eh..." The man looked around as if making sure no one was listening. "Fine. Don' say I didnae warn you. He left four days ago, bound due South-ish. A bit West too."

"Thank you." Ember pointed behind the man. "And the dock is on fire. Thought you might want to know." Some idiot had dropped a torch, and while the old, rotting, water-logged planks were in no serious danger, it was a fact that there were a few wisps of flame coming from the dock itself.

Ember slipped away, laughing softly at the outraged yells, so loud that he could still hear them at the edge of the village. Very much like Gobber. The ice in Ember's heart was still frozen, but that thought warmed him briefly before fading away.

O-O-O-O-O

Approaching the ship itself would be suicide. That word still held some negative connotations for Ember despite his plans, so he flew carefully, never getting close enough to see more than an ominous silhouette on the horizon, barely visible even with his enhanced vision as a dragon. Infiltrating Viggo's island had given Ember a taste of how things could go wrong, and sneaking around on Drago's ship was not an option for a couple of reasons.

Reason one. Ember had never seen such a large ship, but it was still minuscule compared to Viggo's island. So much less room to hide or to run. Less space.

Reason two. Unlike the island, Ember could not use the sailors here as camouflage, not the way he had back there. For the same reasons as before, he couldn't take a sailor either. They had work to do, a full-time job that very likely afforded no time alone. No freedom made that a bad choice.

Reason three. He didn't feel like it. Ember had a strange feeling that he needed to get the measure of Drago as he had with Viggo. So, when he could come up with no good plans to sneak aboard, and no good plans to be brought aboard in a normal way...

Ember didn't immediately decide on what might have been the stupidest, least likely to work plan he had ever come up with. He had spent the days waiting for the ship to dock somewhere thinking, attacking the idea, trying to come up with alternatives.

But by the time the ship docked at a small island, probably just for water, Ember had come up with nothing better. So, he once again landed on the outskirts, unseen. Next was the first part of his incredibly stupid plan.

Dragons molted, shedding scales as new ones grew in from underneath. Ember rubbed up against a tree, rubbing off a few old, orange scales. They were not in the best condition, but they were very clearly Night Fury scales to one who could recognize that oddly soft composition and the smooth outer surface. He shifted back to his human form afterward and pocketed the scales.

Insurance, and a way to get Drago's attention if nothing else worked.

The trip through the village was almost boring. Every island was different, every village unique, but after a while, they all blended together. This village did not have a feeling of dread or doom like the other must have had when Drago was around, but he had only been there a few hours. There were a few of his sailors around, identifiable by their dark looks and odd armor, a different style to what most of the population was wearing, with exotic furs instead of the normal pelts.

Ember made his way to the docks and walked straight up the gangplank to Drago's ship as if he had a right to be there.

The first stupid risk. Hoping no one gutted him for trespassing.

Even the ship itself was dark, dark steel and deep brown wood washed dull making up its exterior, not offering any comfort whatsoever. There were plenty of men around, but Ember was looking for Drago.

He was not hard to find. Standing at the front of the ship, a massive bulk that had to be six feet tall, and bulky, a tangled mat of black dreadlocks tumbling down...

That was why Drago was so easy to identify. No one else would wear a Night Fury skin cloak. So dark it looked black, with just a hint of midnight blue, the very sight of it made Ember feel physically ill. It was not a cloak assembled of scales, it was skin. Drago had, at some point in his life, skinned a Night Fury, or bought that cloak from someone who had.

The second stupid risk. Thinking that Drago might actually consider him for more than two seconds. "Drago." He said it loud and clear, not allowing a waver into his voice. Without even consciously thinking it, he knew without a doubt that showing the slightest weakness more than his physical form betrayed would be the death of him.

Ember allowed himself to feel bleak despair, if just a little. It let him not care, let him actually seem at ease. One would think him overconfident, but in reality, he was simply not afraid of death. It was an intentional move, something to mask the little weakness he did feel.

Drago turned. The man had a hawkish nose and piercing grey eyes. Those eyes bore into Ember in a way that did not feel natural at all. He knew, in a moment of clarity only one whose mind had been invaded before could have, that Drago could see... something. Not his every thought, probably not even his true intentions. This felt deeper and yet less factual.

Drago's face remained stony, and eye contact was not broken. "What do you want?" He sounded entirely uncaring.

Well, at least Drago had, by asking that question, prevented any of the soldiers around them from acting against Ember... at least until Drago said otherwise. It appeared Ember was being allowed to speak.

Now, for the final stupid risk. "You tell me." It was not exactly what he had planned, but he needed to know if Drago could first, otherwise the rest of his plans were pointless.

The moment stretched like a drop of water slowly extending before falling, the tension building...

"You are cold," Drago spoke slowly. "Anger does not warm you. You have lost much."

That was scary, but not quite as bad as what the alpha Nightmare had been capable of. "Yes."

"Why are you here?" Now Drago sounded genuinely interested.

"I am here," and he was back to his original plan, "to offer my services for a time."

"Doing what?" Drago cast a heavy glance around. "I have soldiers aplenty, of far more skill than you."

Skill, maybe. Skill would only take someone so far against him. "I am not a simple soldier."

"I have spies."

"I am not a spy." Though his skill set was very well suited to exactly that.

"I have servants."

Ember laughed at that, a cold and dark sound. He was walking a wire and needed to keep to it. "We both know the only one who would volunteer to serve you as such would do so with poison in mind or a dagger in your sleep."

"Then tell me, boy of ice, what you would do." Drago rumbled threateningly.

"I would work towards my own goals. Those happen to include you wiping Viggo Grimborn and his business off the face of Midgard." The final ploy. Ember might want Viggo dead, but this was also a way to misdirect Drago. An excuse for Ember's strangeness, a backstory that could be expounded, an enemy that Drago could understand. "And I have some information for you to begin that effort."

"Speak. Lie, and be fed to Second." The way Drago said that Second was a name or a designation. A mysterious if disturbing threat.

"Viggo Grimborn sunk a ship belonging to one named Krogan, while Krogan was on board. Four Night Furies also went down with him, along with the crew." Truth.

Drago's expression did not change, but he took a step forward, once again looking into Ember's eyes. Ember glared back. "I speak nothing but the truth."

Drago leaned back, apparently appeased. "You expect me to believe without question, and to take on one whose goals are only aligned with my cause by happenstance."

"Yes. The first will be confirmed soon enough if you did not already know of it." Ember kept his voice neutral.

Drago smiled, a massive and disturbing gesture on such a chiseled face, like a gap opening in the ground during an earthquake, jagged and uneven. "We will see." He spoke louder. "He is not to leave the ship."

That wasn't exactly what Ember was hoping for. "Do you accept me, or not?" It could be interpreted either way.

"I do not... yet." Drago gestured to the ship. "Go where you will, do what you will, knowing that this is my domain. One false move and I will break you. You cannot leave."

"You cannot break that which has already been shattered." Ember retorted quietly.

He had not meant for Drago to hear him, but Drago seemed to know what he had said. "Yes, I can."

"I do not believe you." Ember stood firm, speaking now from what was left of his heart. "I have already lost all that I love, all that I value, all that I have. I do not fear death, humiliation, or pain." Because he knew death. Humiliation only mattered if one valued their appearance. Pain was meaningless, though he might not think so while it was being inflicted. "There is nothing more for you to exploit." When nothing remained, there was nothing to take away or threaten.

"I can find your deepest fears-"

"Don't bother." Ember smiled bleakly. "I feared failing my family. Their deaths are on my hands. That cannot be any more painful than it already is." Drago already knew this, he could tell. Emotions. It would explain why Drago thought he could break anyone if he could easily locate any man's deepest fears, and it would also explain why Drago had not yet picked up on Ember's true nature or intentions.

Drago began to laugh. It was a disturbing sound, and by the nervous shuffling of feet from the hardened soldiers around him, not one that was heard often.

"I like you," Drago managed through gasps of mirth. "You remind me so much of myself at that age."

That was interesting. What in the world had Drago's past been like, if a heartbroken being of seventy-something years of age reminded him of himself as a teenager?

"I look forward to seeing your work." Drago looked around. "We will leave this miserable port tomorrow. My stronghold is a week away. There, I will test you. For now," he grinned evilly, "Second can show you around."

Ember did not like the sound of that. Was this 'Second' a cannibal? Drago had threatened to feed Ember to him, and now Drago wanted him to show Ember around the ship.

Ember involuntarily flinched as Drago yelled, a hoarse sound that was probably audible from across the village, a sound that, even more frighteningly, Ember understood.

It was a summons, a wordless communication of requirement. A sound of dragon language. Many of the assumptions Ember had made of Drago were turned on their head in the next thirty seconds.

All of the soldiers flinched, and several moved away, clearing a path from the main hatch that led down into the bowels of the ship to Drago. Ember wasn't sure if he should move, so he stayed put-

Until one of the soldiers yanked him out of the way. From the way it was done, Ember almost believed it had been done out of pity. From the reactions, it felt like he had been yanked out of the way of a landslide.

He felt like he had been hit with that landslide when a very familiar head emerged from the hatch, followed by the rest of the dragon.

A sky blue in color, from nose to tailfins. Scars covering every inch of his body. Deep orange eyes. A menacing gait, panther-like strides towards Drago.

The Night Fury bowed to Drago, so deeply that its nose touched the ground, a display of respect worthy of an alpha.

The voice Ember had banished pushed forward long enough to comment on the situation before receding again.

_'I'm pretty sure that monster died a very long time ago. Flint killed him. I do not like this at all.'_

**_Author's Note:_ So, who thought 'the Bewilderbeast' the moment Drago first said the name Second? Yes, that was certainly a fun misdirection.**

**Also, if anyone hasn't noticed yet, let me say that Drago is not exactly like canon (neither was Viggo, by the way. Paranoid island, as I call it in my notes, while something he would make given motivation, does not exist in canon). The way in which the backstory differs will be explained sooner or later. And of course, I'm sure we all know who Flint killed. Are things complicated enough yet? Don't worry, it gets even more complex next chapter. Things are going to start moving fast, so be ready.**


	9. Plotting

Ember really wasn't sure what to do. How in the world should he react to this? Surrounded by Drago's men, all of whom were pretty clearly terrified of 'Second', a sky-blue Night Fury covered in scars. Second had just bowed to Drago and was now looking at Ember.

On the one hand, Ember was a dragon, if not at the moment. He would know if Second said anything, and knew that no matter how scary he looked, Second was probably at least somewhat reasonable. Drago was trusting the Night Fury to apparently lead him on a tour of the ship, so there had to be some reason for that trust.

On the other hand, Second bore a frightening resemblance to a Night Fury Ember had fought and Flint had killed... more than twenty years ago. Ember had seen the body. More recently, Storm had apparently seen the old, rotting corpse, so it wasn't like it had gotten up and walked away.

Ember paled slightly as a realization struck him. If this was that same dragon... this was also Storm's real Sire. The monster who had forced himself upon Thorn and blinded Herb in one eye.

But that wasn't possible. That nameless blue Night Fury was dead. This could not be the same dragon. That was one of two things holding Ember back. This couldn't be the same dragon, and he needed to save Storm.

So, how in the world was he going to react to this?

Ember decided to withhold judgment... and to make an impression that might come in handy later. "Hello, Second." He held a hand out cautiously for the grizzled and dangerous dragon to sniff... ready to yank it back in an instant if Second tried to take it off.

There was an audible thud as a dropped weapon hit the deck somewhere within the ranks of Drago's men. Second snorted, turning away without really investigating Ember. Better than Ember had expected, all in all.

Drago, who had been watching with interest, seemed pleased by Ember's lack of reaction. "Not many men can look Second in the eye and remain calm," he noted. "I am impressed. But Second is mine. Do not get too friendly. He is only calm because I wish it."

"I do not doubt that." Ember nodded at Drago. "He is to show me around?"

"Yes. Second," Drago glared at the dragon, "tour. After, spend some time in the cage. I will not tolerate failure."

At that, Second, a dragon that everyone on board save for Drago seemed to fear, whined and bowed again, as if in apology.

"No. You will do as you should." Drago stood firm. "You know the consequences for willfully disobeying."

Another whine, another bow. But this time, Second spoke, subservient and yet proud. "I wish you understood. I cannot."

That was extremely interesting, especially given Drago did not hear or comprehend what was said. So, Drago knew some little of the wordless component of the language, but nothing else. And Second knew it.

Second turned away and began to walk back towards the hatch. Ember, feeling very out of place, followed, trying to ignore the subtle and not-so-subtle looks of shock on the faces of the soldiers he passed.

It had been quite a while since he was stared at because he didn't have a problem with dragons. That brought a small wave of nostalgia. A simpler time.

Yes, Ember thought as he was led down into the bowels of a ship by a Night Fury who bowed to a man who could read emotions, a simpler time indeed.

The ship was large, its interior complex. Ember followed Second through the large corridors. They were alone, for the moment. Should he try and make contact? He still didn't know about the whole 'looks like a dead dragon' aspect of the situation. That needed an explanation. Things were too complex, not knowing the answer. Too many possible interpretations of what he knew.

"You know," Ember made his voice light, "I have to ask, did you have a twin brother or something?" It was the best explanation he could think of that did not involve magic, necromancy, or some similarly convoluted series of events. Usually, the simplest explanation was the best. His personal existence tended to be one of the rare exceptions.

Second whirled and pounced, driving Ember to the floor. The look on the dragon's face was some painful mixture of fear, worry, and rage. Not at all a good thing to have in a dragon pinning one to the ground, with no help in sight.

Ember could feel claws digging into his leather armor, one on the edge breaking the skin through his clothing, a small trickle of blood pooling on his chest. He forgot to breathe for a moment, not that he could with that much weight on his chest.

"Once." With that, Second snapped, teeth flashing an inch from Ember's face, a clear warning, before withdrawing. "I know you can't hear me, one who my alpha has taken an interest in." Second nodded, quite deliberately, before snarling viciously. "Let that suffice for an answer."

Should he let on that he understood? Not yet, not this soon. Second might be a source of information, if the dragon could be baited into speaking, thinking Ember did not understand. This entire situation needed to be played carefully, so carefully. If he could, he needed to get a measure of Second's loyalty before letting on that he understood.

At least now he had some semblance of an answer. This was not the monster, but his brother. Ember hadn't been aware that dragons could be twins, laid in individual eggs as they were. It had never happened in his memory. It was possible Second was only a normal brother of the other Fury, but either way he now understood the connection. That made this, if not easier, then less terrible. Having to deal with a resurrected monster would be... traumatizing, and not just for himself.

Storm. How was she taking all of this? Where was she? What was her situation? Ember followed Second through the ship, both musing on these questions and absorbing everything the odd dragon showed him.

There was all that could be expected of a ship of this size, places to eat, sleep, and all the other mandatory activities for human existence. The sleeping quarters, in particular, were jam-packed, every single spot, be it a hammock or bed against the wall, occupied by equipment, clothing, or soldiers.

All of whom stared in horror and a slight bit of awe at Ember calmly following Second around.

Ember was getting a bad feeling about Second's reputation. Was it because of what the dragon was? Who it took orders from? Or was it related to those scars? Or something else entirely? A reputation like that, especially one held among hardened warriors, was earned in some way.

Ember had a horrible feeling that Drago's threat involving Second was not an idle one.

The Night Fury led Ember through to another large room, this one full of weapons, before exiting again as quickly as he had come in. The tour was really not that in-depth, a simple glance into most of the cabins and side-chambers.

All except for one. There was one door that Second stopped in front of, turning to growl at Ember. Speaking too, though Ember was not supposed to hear him.

"Alpha's den. Enter and die." Second seemed done with the tour after that, though Ember continued to follow him, having nothing else to do. Besides, they hadn't yet seen...

The cages, the dungeon, the prison, whatever one called this room when it was on a ship. The brig, that was it.

There were no human prisoners at present, and most of the cells, built with a layer of steel coating the entirety of the insides, were empty.

As Ember followed Second down the hall of cells, a very odd sound began to... assault his ears. Second heard it too, judging by the way his ears twitched and laid flat against his head.

It was a hard thing for any human to describe, not having the reference points needed. Ember, knowing the dragon language as he did, had a slightly better idea. A running series of shrieks and whines, snarls and growls, not forming words in any language, grating and yet smooth, flowing into each other as if they were meant to, despite the terrible overall sound.

What made it so terrible was not the simple sound itself, though that was bad. Those noises all on their own meant something, a string here of anger, betrayal, challenge, hatred. All negative emotions that dragons had sounds for, wordless messages meant to be used in times of need. Not like this, not endlessly strung together.

As the cell the noise was originating from came into view, Ember realized what it was, that sound.

A song of defiance, if one could call it a song at all. He had found Storm.

A beautiful grey and pale blue dragon, whose mottling was like Herb had described, unique even among dragons. Her ears pure grey, fading into the blue of the rest of her, flat against her head in anger. Her song never faltered even as Second came into view, instead growing in volume and intensifying.

Second roared over it, almost screaming at her. "Stop it! You know he will come to see if you do not play along."

"I will never stop defying both of you." Storm had a subtle lilt to her voice, though it was not so pretty with what she was saying. "Neither of you is an alpha." She did not continue the song though.

"He is. I am not." Second stepped into Storm's cell.

Ember did a double-take as he realized Storm's cell door was open, apparently leaving her free to leave at any time.

Storm took a step to the side, and it became apparent that her tail was manacled, chained with a fairly generous chain to the wall, in a way that seemed impossible to undo at all, even if one had a key, a tangled mess of steel bars around the lock. It was clearly some sort of secondary defense, to...

He recognized the idea, if not the need. Had Storm or some other dragon really succeeded in picking the lock with their claws before, to merit this extra measure?

Storm backed against the wall, her back arched defensively. "Not one step closer."

Second, not arguing that at all, sat on the inside of her cage, his head tilted carefully. "The usual arrangement. We cannot risk otherwise."

"You cannot." Storm nevertheless nodded. "But we are watched." She tilted her head at Ember.

Second seemed to have not noticed Ember in the area until now. He growled, motioning with his head at the exit. "Leave or be eviscerated."

Ember took a step back. "Hey, I don't want any trouble. You and the lady dragon can just..." He trailed off as a few things clicked. "Actually, maybe I should stay, and make sure nothing untoward happens." Storm was Second's niece. Surely Second could tell, could smell the relatively close connection?

Then again, they were acting as if he would tell on them, tell Drago, when Drago clearly had a certain outcome in mind, leaving the door open, ordering Second down here, chastising him for failure. This was not a new situation for either Storm or Second...

Ember thought fast, knowing this could be a way into Second's confidence, and Storm's, though that would be far easier. "I think..." He had to make it sound like he had figured it out on his own. "You don't want to, do you? You two look so alike, I bet you're related."

Second's face fell minutely as if he had been shocked by that. It was an amazingly good guess, at least with what Second knew.

Ember stood, walking to the edge of Second's vision. "I have no desire to get either of you in trouble." He very purposefully turned his back on them both. "Now if Drago asks I can say I didn't watch." Not that Drago necessarily knew he was down there to begin with. Better not to take that chance.

Ember heard Second warble, a deep and almost rusty noise. Clearly, one Second did not have to use often. "It seems this new one will not be an issue."

"How can you say that? It is right there!" Storm did not sound convinced.

"Again, I understand them. It is a skill you would be smart to learn, stuck around them for the foreseeable future."

"I would rather die," Storm spat venomously, "than hear your cowardly No-scaled-not-prey and understand. They are not worthy of my consideration, slime that traps and defiles me. Us."

"My alpha does not... understand." Second seemed uncomfortable. "In all other ways, he is supreme. This is just one thing I cannot do, and he has no way of knowing that."

"Ha!" Storm made a sound that was close to spitting. "You defile yourself in every other way. Why not this?"

"Because this is against all that is right." Second snarled. "You should not argue for it, even to spite me."

"Bowing to a No-scaled-not-prey is also against all that is right!" Storm abruptly yowled, a sound that did not fit her venomous mood at all. "Well? I do not feel like watching it beat you until you cannot stand again."

Second roared loudly, and he and Storm continued for a few seconds to make quite a bit of noise, before abruptly quieting.

"So what do you do if someone is around to check?" Ember wondered out loud. This was all well and good when they were alone, but surely that was not always the case. Drago did not seem like one to trust that all was going as planned when he never saw it happening, and he also seemed like the kind of person to watch this sort of thing just to be sure.

Second snorted in dry amusement. "Storm, this one is more intelligent than the rest. It wonders how we fake this with spectators." He said it in a way that made Ember think the statement was a continuation of an argument.

"No, it does not. They are not that smart."

"Neither are we, for we have no solution for that save for me refusing and taking the punishment." Second growled. "If I could, I might ask it why it cares."

"I am surprised you have not found a way to beg in their language." Storm's voice was caustic. "You have certainly had time and reason to try."

"I do not know why I bother with you." Second growled back. "I should just kill you, take the single beating it would earn me, and go back to my life."

"Such that it is, at the beck and call of a No-scaled-not-prey wearing your Dam's skin!"

That seemed to hit a sore spot. "He is my alpha! I cannot disobey-"

"Except for this, meaning you choose not to!" Storm rattled her manacle. "I will never have this removed! I would rather die with it on than be like you."

"Life with no control is not truly life," Ember agreed softly, not thinking about what he was saying. "It is something less." He had felt that way, in the days as Hiccup the useless, being taken to the blacksmith and told to learn, thrown into dragon training with no say in the matter. The Timberjack had saved him by taking his control, and he had given it willingly, but that had been temporary. If it had been permanent, Ember would not have been able to stand it.

Second was silent for a moment. "I do not know about this one." Ember felt like they were both staring at him. "It just happened to agree with you. That is not normal."

"That makes it no less stupid." Storm retorted angrily.

"No," Second said softly, "it is not smart for one under my alpha's command to agree with you."

"Get out." Storm growled. "I wish to continue defying it and you, but I will not see you defiled by it for disobeying."

"Understood." Second padded silently out of the cell and past Ember, leaving the brig.

Ember turned around even as that terrible song began again, taking in the sight of the sister he had never known.

At least she wasn't a pushover and apparently was far from broken if that spiteful tone and terrible sound was any indication.

To make things less easy, she did not understand him and had a very low opinion of the species he was representing at the moment. He needed to get her out, but that would require some modicum of trust, something that did not seem obtainable.

Ember left the brig when the song began to grate on his nerves, thinking all the while about how to gain Storm's trust. He had one idea, one that probably wouldn't help very much.

O-O-O-O-O

"I wish to sleep in one of the cells below," Ember said confidently. "With the door open, of course."

Drago stared at him.

"Your men need no more crowding where they sleep, and I prefer-"

"The company of dangerous beasts to my soldiers?" Drago chuckled. "You do not lack courage."

"I can understand and predict animals," which was somewhat true except that the term animal did not apply to dragons, "whereas men are far less simple to counter."

"A possibly untrustworthy guest requests to sleep in the cells." Drago grinned cruelly. "I see no reason to deny you that."

O-O-O-O-O

"I remember specifically requesting that the door be left open. Not shut and locked." Ember took a step forward, looking at the guard who had just done exactly that.

"That weren't part o' Drago's orders." The guard chuckled. "It's for your own good, crazy boy. Second sleeps down here. You'll need the protection of a steel cage."

Ember had not known that. "I was unaware of that. In that case, should I thank you?" His voice was sarcastic.

"No, ye can thank me if ye survive the night." With that, the guard left, tossing the key in his hand.

"Survive the night." Ember sat down and removed his prosthetic, letting off some of the pressure his stump had been feeling all day. It was almost odd to be back in a body down a leg for more than a short time. "He says that like it will be a challenge."

Then again, it might be. These bars would not stop a plasma blast, not a small one. Ember tried to focus, to plan in this enforced still time, but...

"I get that it's a mark of defiance," he said irritably to the prisoner a few cells down, "but could you quit that for just a second?" Storm didn't understand his words, but maybe the tone-

"Oh look, Second's newest owner is in here with us." Storm chortled. "Stupid thing." She went back to singing.

So much for that. Ember considered, seeing as they were alone, shifting and revealing what he was.

No, still too risky. He needed to know for a fact that they were and would continue to be unobserved. An assumption was not safe enough. Tomorrow, when they let him out, he could check and make sure the brig really wasn't guarded. It was odd, though with how things were at the moment not that much of a surprise. Storm wasn't going anywhere, and Second seemed to have the run of the ship.

O-O-O-O-O

When Second entered the brig, he did not even stop to stare at Ember, instead walking into Storm's cell once again.

Storm bristled but ceased her yowling, which was a relief to all present. "This is not your cell."

"Alpha says I must spend nights here." Second sounded tired. "I cannot make him understand, so we must keep the farce up."

"You tried." Storm grunted skeptically. "I find that hard to believe."

"I did try." Second turned, revealing several bloody welts on his side. "He does not take kindly to me attempting to communicate outside of the signals he has set."

That was very much not a good sign. Ember winced at the untreated gashes. A whip, maybe? They almost looked like claw marks, but he did not think Drago had claws hidden under that dark, morbid cloak.

The two Night Furies settled down, in an odd sort of truce. Storm as far away from Second as possible, and Second sitting carefully on the inside edge of the cage, against the bars, outside of Storm's reach, which was limited by the chain.

Ember sat up for a while, trying to think of a plan, but nothing was coming to mind. Second was stubbornly loyal to Drago, and if Storm couldn't get him to see reason in the time she had been here, he was probably better off not showing his hand by trying.

This shouldn't be as hard as breaking himself out of Viggo's domain. It was a single ship, one that while heavily armed and armored was not outfitted with the same level of paranoia as Viggo's island had been. It had, from what Ember had seen, been built with pure offense in mind, a massive hulk of wood meant for ramming and bulling its way into another, less fortunate ship.

Those design specifications did not lend themselves to dragon-fighting weaponry to start with, but the ship was strangely lacking even more so than what would be expected, almost as if Drago did not expect that attack by dragons was a possibility.

With a Night Fury under his command, maybe it wasn't that likely. That could be an explanation for Second's reputation, if Drago used him against any dragons they came across.

That disturbing mental image was the last thing Ember remembered before drifting into an uneasy, dreamless sleep.

O-O-O-O-O

The morning began with another ear-splitting performance by Second and Storm. Ember did not mind, precisely, given the alternative, but it was not a pleasant sound to wake up to.

That thought brought to mind another time he had been woken up by a Fury whose noises were not intended to do so. Did he ever have Beryl hum the whole song, as he had intended? No, more dire and important events had driven that from both of their minds. Now he would never know.

Ember fought off the crushing sadness that threatened to take hold by the simple method of telling himself to wait. He just needed to get Storm to safety. There would be time to mourn, time to join his family, once that was done. For now, he sequestered memory, no matter the dull ache that caused. His heart was numb, cold. The pain was similarly dulled. He could handle it.

Time passed, and Second left the brig. Ember began to contemplate picking the lock. Was that what Drago intended, a test of his resourcefulness? A measure of his skill?

Before Ember could decide whether that was the right course of action, the same soldier from before came in, sneered at Storm, and unlocked Ember's door.

Ember was getting tired of so many nameless faces, but he did not really want to get to know any of these soldiers. He and Storm would be leaving, soon if he had his way.

Wait. Drago had said a week to a stronghold. Ember did not want to see what security might exist in a stronghold. It appeared he had a deadline. That was a cheery realization.

"Yeh have fun watchin'?" The soldier sneered. "I see ya survived."

Ember did not respond, leaving the cell instead. There was no good response to that.

The soldier stepped into his path, blocking him. "Listen, kid, yer not in the safest position to-"

Tired. He was tired of all of this, but the game had to be played for a while longer. A knife was out in an instant, held back to throw. "I want no trouble. But I think the risk killing you would bring is acceptable. Your boss wants to see what I do. It would be easy to spin your death as being in his interest." A bluff, though one Ember almost thought he could pull off if needed. Drago would likely accept self-defense if the way the man had spoken so far was any indication.

More incentive to get out. Drago had spoken of 'testing him' at the stronghold. Not something Ember wanted to know more about if he could help it.

"Kid, yer no killer." The soldier scoffed, not even drawing the sword at his belt. "I know-"

"Nothing." Ember finished for him. "That will become apparent soon enough. Move."

"No." A moment of silence. "That's about what I thought." The soldier sneered.

"What is your name?" Ember decided to try a different tactic, as this one was intent on being difficult.

"Gonna report me? Drago don't like snitches." Another sneer.

"No, I just assumed your name might match your personality, and as I don't know anyone quite as obnoxious and brain-numbingly stupid as you-" Ember ducked the hasty punch, triggered the shift and held it in check on just his hands, and shoved both palms into the soldier's armored stomach.

Hitting a thin plate of metal like that had a very interesting sound. A crunch of metal bending, but no sound of impact, a subtle pressure on his palms for a moment as the force fully registered. The soldier staggered back, and as he looked down Ember reversed the shift, pulling the fires back in. There was nothing to see but a flat palm with a curious scar.

To all appearances, Ember had just badly dented a metal plate with a single strike, not even bothering to ball his hand into a fist first. A blatant impossibility, and one that spoke of hidden danger.

"Next time, it will not be armor I smash so badly you'll need a blacksmith to fix it." Knowing metal, that was definitely true. That dent would not be hammered out without the heat of a forge, not from such low-quality iron. Ember brushed past the astonished guard and made his way to the deck of the ship.

The sky was still slate-grey, a condition that had not lifted for weeks. Ember realized with a start that he did not even know what day it was, or what month. Winter, the endless winter that he would likely not see the end of. That was all that mattered. It was not snowing, which was a welcome change.

The deck was a flurry of motion. They had not yet set out from the port, though Drago had meant to be on the move by dawn. Curious. Maybe it was not dawn yet? With this sky, that might be the issue.

A thump got Ember's attention, and a familiar cage was shoved up a ramp and onto the deck, followed by another. Both cages were covered, and of a green metal Ember knew. What was this?

A newcomer stepped aboard, followed by five men, all of whom looked foreign. The newcomer spoke with a slick and practiced grin. "Drago, my oldest and best customer!"

Drago emerged from some shadowed corner like a large specter of death, a dark figure that absorbed and destroyed all light nearby simply by existing. It did not feel entirely like an exaggeration to say as much, not with the morbid cloak that did not reflect even the faintest glimmer of light. He was holding a dark staff topped with a cruelly curved hook, a weapon Ember had never seen used, a tool from stories of foreign warriors. A bullhook. Not something Vikings used.

"Eret. Your son is adequate." Drago grinned. "Which I suspect is the highest praise you have ever heard concerning him." There was a hidden menace in Drago's voice, a suspicion.

Drago did not trust this man, Eret. Was the comment about the son a threat?

"He is, at that. I am glad you have him in your employ, my friend." Eret smiled, a strained expression. "He will never surpass me though."

"I have." Drago dropped all pretense of amusement. "I have, and he might. You are not so good as to be unsurpassable. What have you brought me?"

"Well, Drago, I couldn't find any Night Furies, but I found-"

"I don't care if it is not a Night Fury." Drago snorted. "I know no other pairing works."

"Ah, but these are different!" Eret whisked the covers off of the cages dramatically, taking one with each hand in a flourish that had to have been practiced. "I found these in a place no man has ever gone before!"

Ember felt something shift in his cold and broken heart, an old memory long since forgotten. A pack of white dragons, reclusive wanderers, like himself in shape but not species, subtly different. These were of the same breed. He remembered a time, long ago, when he had not been alone in his wandering, however brief it had been.

The one on the left was male, slightly undersized, and white with a strange yellow glint to his scales, one that reflected the torches around in a yellow flash when he flinched.

The one on the right was female, sleek and smooth, with a ruby-red tint overlaying her white scales, akin to the yellow of the male, her eyes the same deep red. She stared out at the ship in utter horror.

Innocents. Ember could tell in an instant that they were at least somewhat innocent, young and not versed in the cruel ways of the world. It was visible in their eyes, the way they both were so clearly horrified by all that surrounded them. Not totally naive, but not in any way familiar with the horrors that now surrounded them.

Drago seemed surprised, though it was a subtle change, like all of the dark man's moods. "Interesting. But not compatible."

"I assure you, they are-"

"Not Night Furies." Drago strode towards the male. "I wish to breed a following of the strongest breeds of dragons, not dilute my one current success's blood with these." He looked up. "You know this."

Eret gulped. "I do, but they have other uses. Their scales are-"

Drago struck like a snake, his bullhook slipping through the bars of the cage and-

Ember abruptly had to fight off the urge to vomit, knowing weakness would be deadly, but nevertheless unable to bear the brutal and lightning-fast death of the male dragon. Blood spilled from the slumped body, dripping from the grievous wound in the dragon's neck and pooling on the deck.

Another light extinguished from the world, another innocent dead. It did not hurt like the deaths of his family, but it hurt more than any of the hunters dead by his hands. This was one who in no way deserved the fate he had just been dealt. Ember could not listen to the grieving of the other, the female who was screaming in fear, in horror.

Not in mourning. Maybe she did not truly understand the finality of what had just happened, maybe that would come later if she had a later, but she was not mourning. Ember tried not to listen to her, could not bear the horror.

"You know my policy, Drago. Kill it and you buy it." Eret looked visibly shaken. "But as I was saying, their scales have properties brought out by heat, amazingly thorough camouflage. I will be going back for more of them, to test that, but they can hide in plain sight."

Drago looked down at the corpse in a cage. "A significant benefit to cloaks made from their skin and scales." He shook his head. "I don't need that innovation. We are strong without stealth."

"Ah, but you see my friend, you are not my only employer, and only I know the location..." Eret began haggling, trying to convince Drago to buy the location, or pay him to bring more... what did he call them, Light Furies?

Ember was not totally listening. There was a small vine of discord snaking through his head, but he ignored both it and Eret, unable to tear his attention away from the female Light Fury.

She was moaning, her head in her paws. "No, no, no, all my fault, no..."

Eret was expounding on how these Light Furies seemed totally unaware of hunters until it was too late, speculating that the pack he had found was so isolated they did not know humans. He had not revealed the location, said only he knew it.

Though really, his crew probably did too...

"No, no, no... no..." The female's denials died, and she began crying wordlessly.

Something she had said broke Ember in a way he had not been aware existed. Her words, those that so mirrored the dull horror he felt with every minute of every day. 'All my fault.'

Drago seemed to be listening, if skeptically, to Eret's arguments.

Ember felt colder than ever before, and he understood the situation. Eret would convince Drago, would go back himself, or would give Drago the information. More Light Furies would be captured, slaughtered, and sold. And if the female knew what she was talking about, which she very likely did, she would be to blame.

He knew that pain, felt it every moment of every day.

Could he let an innocent feel the way he did when there might be a way to stop it? Even if it meant endangering his last goal?

He had threatened the soldier in the brig, and the soldier had believed his words, if not his resolve...

Because they both knew if Ember played it right, he could probably get away with murder, knowing Drago...

Drago was suspicious of Eret...

_'Am I so far gone that I will let another suffer as I have?'_

**_Author's Note:_ In case you didn't catch it, this is the father of the Eret we know from canon.**

**Also, I was greatly amused by the reviewers who instantly assumed that this had to be that monstrosity who started all of this. (His name, by the way, was Third. Drago is not very original). I'd like to point out that I vaguely recall saying no Necromancy in this series at least once somewhere, and that still holds. The sum total of animate beings can only be increased the natural way in this world. Even Ember's case is neutral, a life and personality changing, not actually bringing back another separate being. Still, I suppose no assumptions about what is or is not possible should be made in this world.**


	10. Realization

_'Am I so far gone that I will let another suffer as I have?'_

No.

It was not stupid, it was reckless, a way to endanger an already extremely unlikely plan. Nevertheless, it had to be done. Now.

Now, before Eret brought Drago around to his way of thinking. More importantly, before the knowledge that would lead to failure spread. It had to be contained.

A knife hilt blossomed in the side of Eret's neck. The deck erupted into chaos.

_'One.'_

Eret had lied, quite clearly, when he had said only he knew.

Ember sprung at the sailors Eret had brought, another knife appearing in his hand almost without thought, the action of drawing it pure reflex. The second sailor went down to a close range throw before he could react.

_'Two. I cannot kill by hand, all knives must be thrown.'_

The ash would be inexplicable. He could not afford to break his cover, to break the image he was projecting.

Another of Eret's men swung, and Ember ducked. The ax hit one of Drago's soldiers, who brutally cut down the offending soldier through reflex. The fight had begun in earnest.

_'Three.'_

Another knife, sinking into an eye. He probably wasn't getting that one back, as the sailor fell back and over the railing into the water below.

_'Four.'_

One of the two remaining men slammed into him, driving him to the deck. Ember slashed his face, a debilitating wound. A moment later, blood rushed from the man's mouth, and his eyes glazed over. A bullhook had gone through his back.

_'Five.'_

A scream cut through the air.

_'Six, I assume.'_

Six. That was it. Eret, and the five he had brought. The fighting had stopped, and Ember was still pinned beneath the fifth one's bulk, with a bullhook and Drago above him.

Drago looked... bemused? Not quite angry, though rage was always right beneath the surface.

"Explain." The dark man rasped.

"Simple." Ember tried to sound calm. "Proliferation."

"Continue." Drago did not move aside, did not lift the corpse. It appeared Ember would make his case from under a dead body. It was a good thing Ember had enough room to breathe, however strained that was.

"If, and that's a big if, cloaks of camouflage can be made, they are a tool of war. It is better for you to have all that exist, rather than for them to be spread. Eret was a liability. He would spread them for profit, spread the source. You have to kill his entire crew." Ember spoke neutrally, ignoring the body pinning him down, the blood dripping onto his neck. "They will know where these dragons can be found. That information must die with them."

"I could interrogate them..." Drago sounded like he already knew why that didn't work.

"But then the knowledge would spread. You have enough for a few cloaks here, and if you get more, everyone will find out where you got them from. A secret is only safe with three people if all three are dead." A saying he had heard, though the original had ended with 'if two are dead.' That wasn't quite secure enough.

"A small advantage only to me, as opposed to a large advantage to all," Drago mused, "and if they cannot be made, no loss."

The ship was silent, the soldiers all listening. Ember wasn't sure what they thought of all of this, but it was clear that Drago was the only one whose opinion mattered.

"You play a dangerous game, Ember." Drago stood, pulling the body off of Ember with his bullhook. "This time you have acted in my interests."

A heavy, probably steel-toed boot replaced the body, pinning Ember.

"Next time, confide in me," Drago whispered hoarsely. "You interest me. Do not force me to kill you. If Krogan is dead, as you say, I may take a new apprentice."

That was news. Krogan had been Drago's apprentice?

"Next time, it will hopefully not be quite so time-sensitive." Ember picked himself up from the ground. "Now what?"

Drago smiled, a cruel and deadly expression that promised pain. "Now, I lead a group of men to finish off Eret's crew."

"Because they know." Ember did not feel bad, exactly, about Drago slaughtering dragon hunters, but it was not a good feeling either. "Make sure they don't know why or else they might tell in an attempt to spare themselves."

"If they do," Drago turned, glaring at his men, "I will have Second end all of the men I bring with me, to ensure I am the only one alive who knows." He began picking men, selecting ten heavily armored warriors. "The rest of you, prepare to leave, except for Frathne and his group."

"Sir." A particularly short and beady-eyed soldier stepped forward.

"You, Frathne, are in charge of making these cloaks. Slaughter-"

No. He would not let the innocent one die today. "Drago, we do not know exactly how these cloaks would work."

"And?" Drago arched a thick eyebrow. "Frathne can make them if they can be made."

"Let me investigate," Ember pointed at the female, who was staring at them all with wide eyes, "a living subject. It may be possible that only the scales are needed, in which case-"

"A consistent supply could come from a live dragon." Drago nodded subtly. "You think you can find out?"

Ember pointed to his leg. "My invention. I make things. I can figure it out."

"Done. I expect an answer by tomorrow." Drago turned and strode to the gangplank, followed by the soldiers he had picked, while the rest pulled the two cages down into the ship.

Drago stopped. Turned around. Yelled for Second, that disturbing command roar that seemed like it should tear any human's throat to emit.

Second came up, stopping and looking at the corpses.

"Feed." Drago waved his bullhook at the corpses. Then he left.

Second looked at Ember, and then at the bodies, his gaze lingering on the one with a knife in his eye, and Eret with one in his neck. He growled at Ember, jerking his head towards those two. "Hurry up."

Ember blinked, then took his knives back, studiously not thinking about what was going to happen next. It was not right to eat No-scaled-not-prey, but what would Drago, and by extension Second, care about that? Ember had no desire to watch, so he headed back down into the ship, moving to the cells.

That was no better. In fact, it was worse. So much worse.

Frathne and his assistants had installed the two cages in two opposing cells and had already begun work on the dead Light Fury. For this particular endeavor, that meant skinning it.

Right in front of the living one.

They were horrifically efficient, with an ease that spoke of practice, lifting off strips of hide and scale with precision, bloody raw flesh left behind...

Ember forced his eyes to go to the female Light Fury, whose gaze was glued to the terrible spectacle, a constant whine escaping her.

A look to the side showed Storm with her head covered, her wings blocking out the sight. She could escape it.

The Light Fury, for whatever reason, could not do the same, could not even close her eyes.

Whatever innocence she possessed was being burned away by trauma. Ember hated that. There had to be something good left in this horrible place.

He grabbed a few of the discarded tarps and a lantern, quickly going to work.

"What are you doing?" Frathne seemed mildly interested, looking up in the middle of his bloody work.

"Heat triggers it," Ember said, "and I'm thinking light might too." He was blowing smoke, making it up as he went along. "I'll use this," he hefted the lantern, "to see what can be seen, but it needs to be the only source of light."

"Interesting." Frathne turned back to the bloody corpse.

Ember quickly spread the tarps in front of the Light Fury's cell, achieving his original intention. Blocking out the horrific sight. Then he did the insides of both cells to either side of her, to block all light. Lantern in hand, he entered the temporary dark room, knowing as he did that any noise louder than a low voice would be heard outside.

Still, it was peaceful in there, a pocket of isolation, mostly taken up by the Light Fury's cage.

She was bound and muzzled, though in an odd way that seemed somewhat loose around the mouth. Loose enough to talk, anyway. Her wings were tied down and her paws lashed together and to the sides of the cage. Someone had wanted to be sure that escape was not an option.

Ember considered her for a moment. Why was he continuing..?

No, he knew why, and he did not need the temporarily resurfaced voice of Instinct to tell him. He was taking her out of here when he took Storm. Because he could, and because she did not deserve any of this.

Ember moved to the cage, making a show of looking at the way the light reflected off of her red-tinted white scales. It was quite an amazing effect, but he wasn't really looking. What to say? Did she even understand him?

"Just kill me." She moaned softly. "It will be quicker this way."

"You know," Ember muttered quietly, "I didn't come here for you. How could I have? But I can take you with me when I leave."

"Oh, great, it wants me too." The Light Fury moaned again, a sound of no hope whatsoever. "This one, the dark one, what does it matter? I am doomed."

"My name is Ember." Now he knew she understood, however she had learned. It must have been quite a long trip from where she was caught, for her to have learned along the way.

"I don't care, No-scaled-not-prey, though at least your name means something." She whined. "I have no one to talk to now, so I speak to those who do not hear." A whisper, so depressed in tone that Ember shuddered. "No one knows where I am. No one cares. Is this my punishment?"

"No, it is me telling you that I'm rescuing you. Tonight." Ember ran a hand along the back of her neck, knowing that he might be interrupted at any time, speaking softly. "I am not like them. I have killed to protect your secret," and at that, the muscles under his hand stiffened, "and I am going to free you and another."

"My... secret... do you hear me?" Her voice was disbelieving, and her eyes narrowed, displaying her resignation. "But no, the fool who tried to sell my secret had known it was a secret, you could know too."

"I can hear you." Ember smiled sadly at the surprised bark she let out. "Quiet, they think I am examining you." Although a few apparent exclamations of pain or surprise might enhance that illusion.

"Another new thing... but all the rest have been bad. Not that the old things were good."

"You do not have to like me, just trust that I will do my best to return you to freedom." However that was going to work. He had no idea where the keys to either this cage or Storm's manacle were, or how he was going to deal with Second. Not to mention, he would be locked in a cell of his own for the night, which was the only time escape might be doable.

This was going to be tricky.

O-O-O-O-O

Time passed. Ember loitered in the cells, looking for solutions to his problems while pretending to observe Frathne and the others working with the scales and skin they had taken off of the male Light Fury. It was interesting work if one could ignore exactly what they were working with, but little progress was made in the rest of the day.

Frathne, in particular, seemed frustrated by the end of the day. He took it out on his assistants, and they departed the cells in a flurry of curses, Light Fury hide, and threats. Leaving behind a skinned Light Fury corpse, a Night Fury chained inside a cell and a Light Fury in a cage. And Ember, of course. Second had not returned yet, and they had a few moments of solitude.

"Light Fury," Ember spoke quickly. "I need you to tell the other dragon nearby that I am rescuing you both tonight." He understood that failing Drago might mean death, and Drago had wanted results by tomorrow.

"Why?" The Light Fury struggled for a moment against her bonds.

"She does not understand me." Ember looked out into the corridor, noting that they were still alone. "Quickly, before Second comes back."

"Dark wing in the other cage, there is a No-scaled-not-prey here who says he is rescuing us tonight," the Light Fury called out quickly.

Ember waved at Storm. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

"I..." Storm stalked to the edge of her range, her tail pulling the chain taut. "This is some cruel joke."

"Nope, it's the truth." Ember shrugged as the Light Fury translated that.

"I do not want..." Storm seemed conflicted.

"Tell her I know she hates my kind, and I don't really care, as she's not getting out otherwise. As long as she does what I say when the time comes, she can hate No-scaled-not-prey all she wants." Rescue was imperative, and changing Storm's views was not something he was going to attempt, not here.

"Fine!" Storm roared in frustration. "If it gets me out, fine!"

Ember nodded, slowly and deliberately. "I'll do my best."

His best meant that secrecy might fall to necessity. Steel might not break to his fire, but it would bend, and he had known how to pick locks for quite a while, learning years before in his time as Gobber's apprentice. If one knew how to smith locks, it was easy to see how to pick them, and he'd had plenty of time and extra locks to practice with.

That was his cell, the cage, and Storm's manacle figured out.

But what about Second?

O-O-O-O-O

Second entered the cells some time later. He scoffed at the skinned corpse in one of the open cells. "More food for later, I think."

That set the Light Fury off immediately. She screeched at him from her position bound and helpless inside the cage. "Stay away from him! No one deserves to be eaten like an animal, not even him!"

Second looked over at her questioningly. "I don't think I've seen one of you. Are you like us?" He looked between himself and Storm.

"Close enough," the Light Fury snarled. "Go away." Her voice broke. It appeared her indignation was quickly being overwhelmed by horror and grief again.

"I sleep here." Second glanced at Storm. "Which reminds me." He and Storm began their daily performance of suggestive yowls and growls, staying as far away from each other as possible all the while.

Ember could definitely empathize with the look of utter confusion on the Light Fury's face at that. He sat in his cell, waiting for the guard who would lock him in.

Second, on the other hand, was not content to sit and wait. He left Storm's cell and stood in the doorway of Ember's cell, filling it menacingly.

"Yes?" Ember smiled politely, all the while trying to figure out if he would have to kill Second for them to get away later in the night. He could probably do it if he took Second by surprise and shifted at the right moment.

"This No-scaled-not-prey is very, very dangerous." Second spoke over his shoulder to Storm. "It has killed three others of its kind today for only the most abstract of reasons, and the alpha approved its actions."

Ember fought to refrain from responding, hoping that the Light Fury and Storm would both understand the need to keep Second in the dark.

"So?" Storm sounded smug, probably because of what she now knew that Second didn't. "Why should I care?"

"It is playing its own game." Second glared at Ember. "The alpha is playing with it, waiting for it to slip."

"You will not convince me it is smart." Storm growled. "It would have to do so itself."

Ember had to keep from smirking.

"But you can't hear it!" Second turned, agitated. "You are so stubborn. Clearly-"

"Clearly, it runs in the family," Storm cut him off. "And as the family, or at least this family, is a bunch of monsters, I am rather glad my Sire is dead!"

Second grew still. "You are warmed by my brother's passing."

"I wish I had gone ahead and relieved myself on his dirty, rotting corpse." Storm snarled. "You are only slightly better, as you choose not to force yourself upon me, but only because your brother did force himself on my Dam. So much better."

Ember saw, out of the corner of his eye, the Light Fury's eyes widening, her head shifting slightly to follow the argument. He felt just as much a spectator. Both Storm and Second seemed to have forgotten they had an audience.

"My brother was not..." Second visibly contained his anger. "I am not my brother."

"No." Storm scoffed at him. "At least he got killed in a way that fit his crimes, his throat and stomach cut by a female who was not taken by surprise. You persist in existing, doing the dirty work and abasing yourself for these rotten, no good-"

Ember tuned Storm's increasingly vile rant out, instead quickly considering something. Second was standing at the entrance to Storm's cell, having slowly moved closer over the course of the argument. His back was mostly towards Ember, but the underside of his chin might be within reach...

Ember began to sidle closer, moving as fast as he dared.

"I obey my alpha!" Second snarled, his claws pulling up curls of wood from the planks below him. Ember was only three steps away.

"Your alpha is no dragon!" Storm glanced at Ember and then continued her rant. "Tell me, what keeps you here?!"

"I am loyal!" Second was screaming now. "I am loyal! My brother was not! He fled! But I stay because I know what is right!"

"What is right!" Storm laughed bitterly.

"The strongest is alpha." Second spoke stubbornly. "He is the strongest, he is alpha."

One step. Ember reached out-

Second took a step back, and bumped into Ember. He stopped mid-yell and turned. Pale orange eyes met green.

Ember struck out, punched the pressure point. The one that all dragons had, all dragons...

Second was not collapsing. Not even slowing. "My alpha removed that weakness a long time ago." He stepped forward, forcing Ember back.

Ember was looking now and saw that there were several particularly nasty scars over where he had struck. He was pretty sure it wasn't something that could be physically removed, but maybe if it had been damaged enough, it wouldn't work? Clearly, it wasn't working now, so the 'how' of the matter wasn't important.

"Okay, the hard way." Ember knew that there would be a guard coming soon, and Second needed to be safely asleep before then. Sleep, however, could be achieved several different ways. The pressure point, or a good old-fashioned Viking tranquilizer. Also known as a hefty blow to the head.

For some reason, the pure absurdity of what he was about to do struck him. Fighting a Night Fury with his fists? Sure, that sounded perfectly reasonable, if one's name was Stoick the Vast. Otherwise, one would be laughed out of the Great Hall.

Ember looked Second in the eye. "Friend, I'm going to need you to go to sleep for a while." Might as well say it on the off chance Second was feeling tired and willing to overlook the entire incident.

"I was mistaken. It is insane." Second seemed amused now.

"Can't say I didn't ask nicely." Ember took a step back and cracked his knuckles. The gesture became far more threatening when his palms began to burn. "Time to one-up every Viking that ever lived." Ember charged, letting the flames cover him almost completely, but not change him. There was not enough room in here to fight dragon-to-dragon.

Second did not flinch, despite the unnatural spectacle, instead swiping at Ember as he came into range. Ember noted with a small amount of relief that the flames were powerful enough to push Second's deadly claws away before they tore massive gashes in his body, not even leaving scrapes as they repelled the paw.

Ember and Second danced in the corridor for a moment, Second using his honed reflexes to avoid the fiery attacks of Ember, backing up because he had no way to attack and nowhere else to go in the corridor. That did not stop him from biting and clawing at the encroaching fire. Ember ducked and dodged as much of Second's retaliation as possible, not wanting to test his own limits, and always seeking that single blow to the head he needed to end it.

Eventually Second slipped up, not anticipating just how powerfully his own attacks would be rebuffed. The Night Fury stumbled backward, up on his hind legs after an ill-advised attempt to pin Ember. Ember seized the advantage and socked Second in the stomach, hearing a whoosh of air come from the dragon in a rush.

Ember knew how that felt, and he knew it was pretty much impossible to breathe in for a few seconds afterward. He quickly shoved the dragon back, taking advantage of the shock to the system Second had just suffered.

Second knocked his head on a wall of bars behind him and collapsed like a felled tree. All in all, the fight had lasted less than a minute.

Ember quickly pulled back his flames to just his hands and moved to the other side of Second's prone form. After checking to make sure the Night Fury was breathing, Ember used his flames to roll the dragon awkwardly into Storm's cage. Pushing something like he was, not even feeling it on his hands, was disorienting.

Really, as Ember moved a several-ton Night Fury, he wished he knew how this all even worked. It was enough to say 'magic' and leave it at that, but there had to be some better way to explain fire with substance, fire that repelled away from him but did not repel itself. It felt... unbalanced, almost. Then again, this power had such terrible causes and side-effects, if one looked at the fires themselves as the desired outcome.

Really, he was taking advantage of his broken mind to abuse this part of his capabilities. It made him feel strong, gave him the strength of a dragon, if not the control that would come with truly being that strong. Maybe there was a hidden cost, somewhere.

Thinking of that... he did feel more tired now. Had he not been somewhat lethargic after bending those bars on Viggo's island? It would have been hard to tell, the adrenaline of the moment drowning it out.

He had faltered, those cold flights and nights before meeting the Timberjack, heated himself less and less often in the nights. Not because he was not cold, but because he did not have... the energy.

The fires, or at least using them like this, took energy from him, far more than he would otherwise expend. So there was a cost.

That actually made him feel better about it. Nothing came without a cost, and now he knew what it was.

Ember maneuvered the unconscious form of Second into the cell, but he got stuck. He looked up. "A little help?"

Storm might not know what Ember was saying, but the intent was clear. She latched onto Second with toothless gums, pulling the dragon into his normal spot.

Ember let the flames completely recede into his palms. "There. One less problem to deal with." He quickly walked back into his own cell and sat down, the picture of bored resignation.

It took about thirty seconds to realize that he was being stared at by two pairs of curious and startled eyes. Oh, right. He might owe them both some sort of explanation.

"Later. I'll explain later." Ember felt unusually good, if not exactly energetic, but that was going to be a headache. He'd postpone it until the other headaches were dealt with.

O-O-O-O-O

The guard had come and gone, scoffing at Second asleep in the corner and eyeing Ember with a new look that spoke of fear.

This was the same guy that had messed with Ember and said he didn't believe Ember could kill. It made sense that after the events of the day said guard might be a bit more wary of Ember.

Once the guard had left, Ember waited, though every second was painful. He was running on a biological timer of sorts. Second could wake at any time, and it would be best for all involved for Drago's dragon to find an empty brig when he did.

Once Ember was satisfied that no one was coming down for a last-minute checkup on the new prisoner, he stood and considered his options.

Slamming the cell door open through force might be fun, but it would probably make more noise than he was comfortable with. Best to just pick the lock.

Ember realized, as he was attempting exactly that, that somehow despite all of the times he had been imprisoned recently, he hadn't actually had to exercise his lock-picking skills until this point. He was rusty. As was the lock, but that was a different issue.

A subtle clink and the cell door shifted. Ember withdrew his hand, keeping the knife out, and quickly walked to Storm.

"Don't move, I need to get the bars around the lock out of the way." Ember waited as the Light Fury relayed his instructions. She spoke fast, very likely feeling the real urgency in the situation.

Storm did not argue, but she shied away when Ember came close. Ember had no patience for shyness, especially from this dragon of all people, and grabbed the makeshift manacle guard.

"Hold still!" He quickly shifted partially, using the flames to yank the bars out of the way, accompanied by the groan of brittle metal being bent. Another session of lock-picking later, and the manacle fell open.

Storm whipped her tail out, almost catching the edge on Ember's knife, immediately bringing it around and... biting it?

She shook it, whimpering pitifully. "It was numb, and now it hurts!"

Ember winced, knowing that awful feeling. He moved to the cage, meeting the Light Fury's eyes as he picked a third lock, moving faster as his old skills returned to him. The door swung open.

For the Light Fury, there was more to do. First, he cut the muzzle, the thick leather falling to his blade. The moment he did she yawned, a large and long-awaited movement that had Ember counting her teeth.

It seemed the Light Fury was an extremely close cousin to the Night Fury, judging by what Ember could see. They even had the same needle-like retractable teeth.

She went to work on the ties holding her paws together, while Ember unlashed her wings.

It was a gratifying sight to see the Light Fury walk out of her cage, though her legs were unsteady.

"Now what?" The Light Fury had no issues asking Ember. It was nice to know one of the two dragons he was saving trusted him. From the looks Storm kept casting him, Ember wasn't sure she did.

"To the deck, and to the sky. We need to find somewhere isolated. They might send Second after us once our disappearance is noticed." Ember frowned. "Does anyone know where we are, exactly? I don't know this area at all."

"I have been down here for moon-cycles." Storm replied after the Light Fury had translated, growling and stalking towards the exit. "We will figure it out as we fly!"

It was a 'we', Ember noticed, and not an 'I'. For all of her defiance, Storm seemed to take comfort in not being alone. That was good, as he did not want to have to chase after her. She would stick with the group.

"I wish..." The Light Fury was staring at a dark corner. At the skinned body of the one she had been brought in with.

"I do too." Ember gently pushed her towards the exit. "But we can't." The body would not get a proper funeral, would very likely feed Second. That was just the way things were.

The three escapees, two dragons and one human at present, made their way through the corridors. They had one scare when a soldier on late-night patrol ran into Storm, but in the dark, he mistook her for Second long enough for her to take him out without much noise. The deck was silent, and before any of the sentries could even look their way, Storm was off.

"Wait, can you take me-" Ember did not want to reveal his true nature quite yet, not when they were not entirely free.

The Light Fury grabbed him and launched herself upward before he could even complete his request.

As they flew away from the boat, from Drago's clutches, meeting up with Storm in the air, Ember felt a lift in his frozen heart.

The last task was almost done. Almost, because they might still have Second to deal with if he woke up while they were still visible against the slate-grey horizon. With a Night Fury's eyes, that was a dangerous possibility.

**_Author's Note:_ So, Eret. I was quite entertained by those who thought he had a future redemption arc… or any future at all, because what Ember intended was pretty clearly telegraphed in the end of last chapter.**


	11. Disbelief

They were not quite away yet. When Ember felt the odd strain on the Light Fury's wings, the quaking in her muscles, he knew that the escape was not done. Then he saw Storm struggling to remain in the air, and he made a decision.

"Land somewhere! You're both in trouble up here!" There were a few sea stacks in the distance, and after a quick argument between themselves Storm and the Light Fury made for them.

Storm rushed the Light Fury and pulled Ember off of her back the moment both dragons were on the ground. The Light Fury shied away and did not resist as Ember was taken off of her and tossed roughly to the ground.

He sat up slowly. "That hurt." His prosthetic had caught, scraping his stump. Now did not seem like a good time to take it off and look at the injury though. Maybe because there was an irate Night Fury screeching at him.

"You are not in charge, you are not a dragon, and we do not trust you enough to let you tell us to land! We are still far too close!"

Ember held up a hand and spoke calmly. "You were faltering, and she," he indicated the Light Fury "was having problems. Neither of you has flown in a while, and her wings were pinned for who knows how long. This is a necessary break."

"Also," the Light Fury timidly added after translating, "I trust him. He got us this far."

Storm shook her head in denial. "I was struggling, but Second is probably coming. What then? We have a better chance of flying than fighting in this state."

That was a surprisingly reasonable objection. Ember decided something. "If Second comes, I will drive him away myself." He could kill the other Fury, or simply cripple him and let him drown. It would not be easy, but Second did not have many of the advantages Ember had.

Storm stared at Ember as if he had gone mad once the Light Fury translated. For that matter, the Light Fury did not seem totally confident that he was sane either.

"You are not normal, but unless you can fly, that is not an option." Storm glanced at the horizon, where Drago's ship was just visible on the horizon, too far to see anything but its silhouette.

Why was he still withholding his true identity? It was an interesting question, but really Ember knew that once who he was became known to Storm, there would be a very heavy and depressing discussion. It felt like the end of his responsibility because he only intended to have that talk when they were totally safe, and after that...

He felt the crushing weight he always carried with him, the grief that had never been allowed to take hold. After that, he could stop. Stop trying, stop holding it back. Let things end as they would.

So for now, he only answered with "I can handle him. I bet you didn't think I could take him on the ground either."

That shut Storm up for a few moments. Ember sat down and took his prosthetic off, noting with resignation the scrape across his stump. Walking would be mildly painful for a while. A good thing it looked to be mostly flying from here on out. It would be good to stretch his wings, though he had only been in his human form for a few days.

"Did she do that?" The Light Fury leaned in, sniffing the small injury. "It is bleeding."

Ember chuckled. "The leg's already gone. After that, a little scrape is nothing."

"How did you lose it?" She sounded intrigued.

"A dragon bit it off," Ember recalled with some nostalgia. "Of course, I'm rather glad he did, as it stopped me from burning alive..." He trailed off at the horrified look on her face. "Long story."

"Well, I think it's a shame," and Ember got the idea this was said for Storm's benefit by the way the Light Fury glanced over at her, "that you got a leg bitten off by a dragon only to have another dragon hurt it more for no good reason."

Storm scoffed. "It will live, or it will die and you will have less strain on your wings." She met the Light Fury's eyes. "For you, that is apparently a win-win. I would root for the injury."

"Why did you save her?" The Light Fury seemed to recoil almost immediately once she heard her own words. "Oh, I didn't mean that really, it's just that..."

Ember liked the Light Fury. She was not young, not a child or even a teenager by dragon standards, an adult, but the way she spoke was refreshingly... clean. Almost repressed, though that might be his imagination. So, he decided to confide in her a little. He stood and whispered in her ear, "Can you keep a secret?"

"From her? I like my odds at the moment."

"I was sent by her Dam and the Sire who raised her. That is not the whole truth, but it is more than she knows." Ember laughed at the first confused and then smug expression on the Light Fury's face. He also ignored the pain mentioning Herb and Thorn brought. Soon, but not yet.

"What did he say?" Storm looked annoyed.

Oh, right. There really hadn't been any need to whisper. Oh well, it helped set the tone of secrecy.

"Nothing you need to know." The Light Fury's face fell, and she whispered back out of necessity. "I don't know if my Dam would have sent someone for me."

There was something more to that, something deeper. Ember did not have the time to dig into it, but-

"Rotten fish in a tide pool." Storm snarled, her wings raising. "Second is coming." She glared at Ember. "Well? If you are going to do something, do it now."

No holding back now. He was the best dragon for the job because he was at the very least both brutal enough and rested enough to be a match for Second. His combat experience and supernatural abilities were just an extra bonus.

"If you would translate?" Ember nodded at the Light Fury. "Storm, I am entirely capable of taking Second down. When I engage him, both of you go East. I will catch up once I have either driven him back or killed him."

"And if you die?" The Light Fury asked at the same time Storm scoffed in disbelief.

"Then my half-sister here will be rid of me, and I will have served as a distraction." With that, Ember transformed entirely.

When the blue flames receded from his vision, the sea stack was a lot less roomy, but he had plenty of space... because the two female dragons were huddled on the far edge, their eyes wide. He was getting used to that particular expression. "Are we clear? Fly East when we engage. I'd rather he not know what direction if at all possible."

"... okay." The Light Fury responded first.

Ember could see Storm about to explode. He held up a paw. "Yes or no, sister."

"Yes but-!"

"We have no time." Ember leaped upward, beating his wings to gain height, turning towards the oncoming Night Fury, who showed no emotion at the appearance of a new challenger.

That would change if Ember had anything to say about it. He sped towards Second. They clashed, tangled, and separated almost immediately. Second circled, and Ember circled with him.

"You are a dragon." Second sounded confused. He must have seen the transformation as he approached.

"Yes, and I can honestly say you're a real disappointment to our kind!" They tangled again, Ember raking a clawed paw across Second's side. He himself was taking small wounds, but Second was not truly attacking yet. That would soon change. The scarred dragon was taking his measure.

For that reason, Ember was sticking to normal combat, not several mid-flight techniques he had thought up recently. Those would come out later.

"I don't understand you." Second growled, and they were back to circling. "What do you gain from this?"

"Some small measure of peace, knowing that not everything I touch dies!" Ember shot back. "What do you get? Just fly away! What sends you back?!"

"Loyalty!" Second answered.

"To one who does not deserve it!" Ember pulled back, preparing to engage again. "I hate myself for some of the things I've done, but at least I do not commit atrocities because someone else tells me to!" Then he drove his wings down, shot forward, and began to attack in earnest.

Bloody wounds were exchanged, scales were torn, wings and tails threatened. The latter caused both combatants to shy away and fight carefully, because such a wound would be the end of the fight, and very likely the end of the wounded's life.

_'I could just take him down with me...'_

Ember ignored the voice, knowing he could not. Storm still needed to know what he knew to be totally free. Taking Second down meant that would be easier, but it was not best for them both to die here.

Really, he would rather not have Second die here either. The dragon was brutal, amoral, and dangerous, but most of that could be attributed to Drago's commands and influence. The real issue was that Second was blindly loyal.

There had to be a deeper reason for that, but Ember couldn't see it. Storm hadn't seen it either, else she would have attacked it the same way she had everything else about Second.

Could he stop Second without dooming him? The idea wormed its way into Ember's mind, and he began forcing Second to chase him, feinting away, always moving both up and in a certain direction...

They were equally matched, though Ember had not yet pulled out all the stops. He led Second on for quite a while before the other Fury realized something was amiss.

They were high in the sky, above the ocean and...

"Fool!" Second had glanced down, had seen that Ember had brought him back to Drago's ship, that they were high above it, far out of range but not out of sight. "Death would be better than capture!"

"For me, maybe." Ember snarled and redoubled his attacks. "For you, this is a small mercy." He aimed exclusively for the tailfins, which he knew would eventually heal...

A quick pull away to gain distance, powerful beats of the wings to gain height, and Ember had fallen upon Second from an upward angle, attacking the wings. When Second pulled them in, Ember shifted, dropping from the sky in his human form to land on Second's back. Ember shifted again before he could be shaken off, his paws now dug into and around Second, keeping him latched on and pinning the Fury's wings.

They were falling, both of them, but the fight had started out so high that Ember had plenty of time.

He hated doing it, absolutely hated it, but... he knew it would regrow. If Second survived Drago's punishment, it would regrow.

A short jerk of his teeth after biting down on a tailfin shredded the fin, and another jerk removed it entirely. He couldn't risk someone of Drago's trying to sew the shredded mess back together. It might not regrow if there was still something there, no matter how crippled. A clean if bloody break was best.

Second was roaring in agony, flailing and thrashing. Ember roared over him. "This is temporary, it grows back!" A thought struck him. "Spend your time grounded thinking about why you serve an alpha that doesn't know the first thing about you." To be fair, even Beryl hadn't known that tailfins came back if taken off, but that wasn't the point. "And try not to let your alpha kill you for this!" With that, he let go and flapped hard, slowing his descent and turning it into a glide.

Second could not do the same. He slowed his fall as much as possible with his wings, but still hit the deck of Drago's ship hard. That did not seem to be on his mind at the moment, as he immediately turned and brought his now half-missing tail into his line of sight.

Ember hated what he had just done, but it had been a mercy and maybe a chance for Second to see the truth. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless. He turned and flew back towards where Storm and the Light Fury would be, not wanting to watch the dragon he had just grounded any longer.

O-O-O-O-O

Ember came down upon Storm and the Light Fury from above, having been traveling high to make sure he didn't miss them. To say he had startled them by dropping to fly between them without a sound was an understatement. He had to dodge a plasma blast from Storm, which was luckily not aimed directly at him so much as in his general direction.

"Do not do that!" Storm snarled viciously at him. "And you! You owe me-"

"Many things, but you will not like the news I carry. It is best we wait until we are not in the air for that."

"Can we ask other things?" The Light Fury sounded almost comically eager to do so.

"You may, though I may not want to answer." Ember rumbled in amusement at the excited look that brought. "Also, I am realizing I do not know if you have a name." Names seemed to be a peculiarity of Night Furies, but Light Furies were so similar in other ways...

"Pearl." She inhaled, as if in preparation to ask as much as possible in as little time as possible. "What-"

"What are you playing at?!" Storm cut Pearl off. "Let us start with why you were walking around as a brainless No-scaled-not-prey-"

"And how! Don't forget how!" Pearl interjected.

"I do not give a rotten fish for how!" Storm objected.

"I do!" Pearl shook her head. "He can answer both if he wants!"

"Shut up!" Storm looked like she might have snapped at Pearl if Ember wasn't flying between them. "This does not concern you!"

"Storm..." Ember said warningly.

"No, answer the question." Storm snarled at him.

"Both of them, if you can?" Pearl was quieter, but she still said it.

"Storm, I was walking around like that because I needed to get Drago's trust in order to even get on board. Otherwise, I would have just been chained up next to you, at best." Ember glanced over at Pearl. "And as for how, that is a very complicated question. I will answer it, but not at the moment." At this point, when they stopped he was going to be telling the story of his lives.

"Well... can you teach me?" Pearl did not see Ember's slack-jawed expression. "I'd really like that..." Her tone was almost wistful.

"Why would you want to learn?!" Storm asked in a voice of utter scorn. "Also," she turned her attention back to Ember, "you are-"

"Ember. Nice to meet you, sister who cannot reign in her tongue."

"You-" Storm spluttered, completely driven off-track. "I can hold my tongue! You are making me mad, that is all!"

"It is understandable at the moment," Ember admitted, "but your demeanor towards one who has done you no wrong is disturbing. Try to shake off the vile exterior you used to keep your defiance alive." It was easier to correct Storm's current failings, easier than thinking about the old conflict he had wanted to resolve. The one that still mattered, though Herb would never hear his daughter's apology...

Ember faltered midair, having accidentally slipped past his own mental blockade, the ban on painful memories he had erected subconsciously. It took him several seconds to pull away, to refocus on the world around him.

Both dragons were looking down at him with either concern, in Pearl's case, or confusion, in Storm's. Down because he had apparently dropped quite a ways in those few seconds. "I'm fine..." he called up, before muttering, "or at least relatively fine."

"Are you hurt?" Pearl called down.

"Not badly." It was true, he had several scratched and multiple raw spots of skin...

Which was a result of Second hooking his claws in such a way as to tear scales off, a technique Ember had never seen or heard described...

He was hurt, but it was nothing compared to the aftermath of most of the encounters with Vithvarandi. Second was a single, unchanging dragon. That was, if not easy, at least straightforward.

Ember wordlessly worked his way back up to between his sister and Pearl, feeling that it was where he should be in their flying formation. Storm might once again need a physical barrier between herself and Pearl, if Pearl continued with her questions.

Which she did. Almost as soon as Ember made his way back up, though the topic had changed. "Where?"

"Where what?" Ember had lost the thread of the conversation.

"Where are you hurt?" Pearl arched her neck to look over. "I know a little bit about how to treat injuries."

"So do I," though he had learned through necessity and personal experience, "and these will be fine. Second was not so lucky."

"Did you kill him?" Storm inquired, her voice unreadable.

"What outcome would you prefer?" Ember genuinely would like to know. It was hard to know how Storm saw Second. She had been terrible towards him, but they had cooperated to a point, circumstances hadn't been great, and she was, at the moment, terrible towards pretty much everyone.

"I do not want him near me. However that can be accomplished, though killing works." Storm huffed, and Ember got the impression that were she human, she would have crossed her arms. It was odd that there was no Night Fury equivalent to that gesture, now that he thought about it.

"Then you will be glad to know that I grounded him temporarily." Ember cut Storm's protests off the moment they began. "He has been deprived of a tailfin. It will take many moon-cycles for that to grow back." Moon-cycles, months, of slow, painstaking growth.

"Oh." Pearl sounded horrified. "But wasn't he over the ocean?"

"No, I baited him back to Drago's ship." Ember sighed. "He may survive the grounding, but the punishment his alpha deals out for failure might be another matter." That was an unavoidable but distasteful side-effect of sparing Second in the way that he had. It was the only path that had not gone straight to Second's immediate demise though, so he would not be too sorry. Second was not pure evil, and for some reason, Ember did not totally blame the dragon for even what had been his own decisions. But he was not in any way a good dragon. The pain Drago would deal was not deserved, but it was also not undeserved or unasked for. By returning to Drago of his own free will, Second made the decision to take whatever Drago would give, bad or good. Not that there ever seemed to be any good.

"I do not understand him," Storm grumbled forlornly. "Not at all."

"Neither do I." Ember agreed with that sentiment.

"Uh, should we?" Pearl looked at them askance. "He's a really mean dragon who serves a bad No-scaled-not-prey. What is there to understand?"

"Why." Ember snarled aimlessly. "That gnaws at me, and for Storm it will be worse if I guess correctly." He glanced over at Storm, who didn't argue for once. "As Second is her blood-Sire's brother." He felt that was a better way to say it, rather than just saying 'Storm's uncle,' given her detachment in regards to him. Let like associate with like, rather than tie him to her.

"Oh, but..." Pearl looked confused. "What does blood-Sire mean?"

Understandable, as he had just made that term up. "The one who sired her, but who is not technically her Sire in life, in any of the ways he should be."

"But why not?"

Storm snarled. "Because Second's brother forced himself upon my Dam and then left, only to be killed trying the same thing with another dragon later." She glanced over at Ember. "We wondered if the two Furies in that story had been you and another."

"Yes," Ember forced himself not to think about it, "I was there with my mate." Memories of Flint were old and dull compared to the others, but ones that led by association to Beryl and Spark, and painful in their own right.

Storm barked in surprise, a sarcastic sound. "And where is she now? I would like to meet the one who bested that monster." She purred. "Maybe thank her."

"Dead. ten season-cycles now." Ember whined, almost involuntarily. This was getting very close to the things that he needed to reveal, the heartbreak that would be shared.

That killed the conversation for a while. Ember did not feel too tired, though after the near-death experience had on the way to Drago's ship, he had revised his definition of what 'too tired' felt like. Even with his safer definition, he felt he was fine.

It became clear about two hours later that the same, again, could not be said for the others. Luckily, an actual island consisting of more than a few rocks and tide pools came into view. Even more luckily, Storm angled towards it with no prompting whatsoever, and Pearl was not slow to do the same. He would not have to tell Storm to set down again, though she might have taken this second time better as he was at least a dragon while giving the order.

A large ledge with a cave on the side of a rocky cliff was silently chosen for its size, isolation, and cover, and the three travelers set down with varying degrees of relief. Storm quickly folded her wings in but stood standing, while Pearl made no effort at a pretense whatsoever, rolling onto her back with her wings totally outstretched. Her paws twitched in the air.

"What are you doing?" Storm looked down at Pearl.

"You try going multiple moon-cycles without opening your wings," Pearl explained. "I was tied like that the entire trip, ever since I was caught trying to escape the third day." She purred. "It feels so good to just stretch out."

"Makes sense," Ember chuckled, sitting down nearby. His mood darkened. "I have found you, Storm, and saved you. That was why I was there."

"How did you even know I existed?" Storm demanded.

"I infiltrated the island you were sold on, and got the information on where to go from the No-scaled-not-prey there."

"And how did you get that far? Do not say the nest, because that would be just another misdirection. Who told you to find me?" Storm huffed angrily. "I bet it was that nosy alpha. I made the mistake of telling him about my life, and he told me... oh, it doesn't matter."

Ember wouldn't pry, but he was pretty sure Storm hadn't liked what she had heard. "You are incorrect. I was waiting for you at home. With Sire and Dam."

Storm froze. "So you finally came back." She sneered at him, growling deep in the back of her throat. "Sixty winters gone with no word. I would bet they were overjoyed that you were alive at all."

"They were, though given I spent the last ten or so of those season-cycles dead," Ember growled back, "I was not entirely in a position to return sooner. And you are one to talk of mistakes that hurt our parents."

"This is not about that." Storm instantly became defensive.

"This had everything to do with that," Ember shot back. "I wanted to tell you just how wrong it was to do what you are doing... were doing."

"I may not have cared, but he lied to me! He does not trust me!" Storm glared at Ember. "I will not apologize."

Ember felt a lump rise in his throat. "You won't have to. He's gone."

"What?" Storm whispered, her ears falling.

"Him... and Dam." Ember bowed his head. "And my two adult sons. All dead."

Pearl, who had been silently listening, probably entirely confused, keened softly in sympathy.

Storm moved towards Ember. "You cannot be serious."

"I wish I was not. But they are dead, and it is my fault." Ember moaned quietly, letting his emotions out a little as he explained. "I left them in a place we all thought safe, and they were captured and sold. I was going to free them, but one of the No-scaled-not-prey betrayed their buyer, and all aboard that ship either swam to safety or drowned." Ember closed his eyes. "I saw the whole thing, helpless to intervene. No dragon made it to the surface. They were locked in cages, with no way out. They are gone."

Storm joined Pearl's mourning, and Ember broke down completely, doing the same. It was the closest thing to a funeral dragons had, and at least now, so much time later, he was not alone to do it.

Of course, that could not last. Even as Ember retreated into himself, Storm slowly became more and more angry. She stalked over to Ember, her eyes slits.

"Your fault." She pushed at Ember, roughly jabbing at him with a paw. "Your fault. You brought them looking for me. You say you failed to save them."

"Yes." Ember did not even open his eyes.

"You should have died with them!" Storm exploded. She was grieving, angry, and more than a little guilty. It was clear she didn't quite mean it.

"Yes," Ember agreed, "and I would have joined them that night. But I had one last thing to do. I had to finish what we had started."

A moment of silence.

"And now I'm done."

Storm didn't seem to know what to say to that. She stalked away, curling up in a corner angrily, so heated that it was a dull surprise to Ember that she had not blasted him in the heat of the moment.

But it did not matter. Ember knew, that after so much time holding them back, his memories would be painful. He began to run through them anyway, reliving every moment he could remember. The good, the bad, the boring...

Beryl and Spark, tumbling through the cave they had made a home, rolling across the dirt floor that Flint so liked.

Thorn, chastising him for waking her, but playing with him anyway.

A solemn talk with Herb, about some little thing that didn't really seem that important in retrospect. What felt important was sitting with his Sire and being treated as an equal.

Beryl, those times in the cove, laughing in that way only dragons could, a clear sign of amusement as he ran from the latest saddle design...

Ember fell into sleep far too soon.

O-O-O-O-O

Three sets of breathing, one slow and regular, if shallow. One angry, quick, irregular. And one soft, steady, quiet.

"Something is wrong with him."

"So? He deserves to feel bad."

"I don't understand much of this, but aren't you being a little harsh?"

"Harsh. If anything, I am not being harsh enough!" An angry laugh.

"He just saved us both."

"I do not care. He also got my Dam and Sire killed."

"Weren't they his Sire and Dam too? And his sons..."

"But it is his fault."

"And he very clearly knows that! Don't you think he might have beat himself up about it before now?"

"So?"

A beat of silence.

"You... you don't care at all?"

"No! Well, a little, but he deserves way more than to feel bad about this!"

"It's not good to let your anger blind you..."

"Oh shut up, this does not concern you."

"I'm not allowed to talk about the dragon that just saved my life?! And the lives of everyone in my pack!"

"Yeah, he apparently saves anyone except the ones who matter."

"You don't mean that."

"How would you know?"

"Because I refuse to believe anyone can be that spiteful. You're not in a good state of mind to be making judgments."

"Then let me go to sleep!"

Silence. The angry breathing slowed down, evened out. A soft snore echoed through the cave. The wind began to howl outside.

"I don't like how she acts… but at least she is free."

More silence.

"Something feels wrong about all of this. She will let him bury himself in guilt. I should not have to step in. It's not my place."

Soft tapping echoed on the stone outside, a gentle rainfall.

"But if I don't no one will. Maybe this is how I can repay him. Surely he will be fine if I can stop Storm from burying him in hate."

The final set of breathing evened out, though that was not much different from before.


	12. Crash

Waking up felt different. Fog clouded Ember's mind, the soft fog of tiredness, the lack of thought that only truly existed in the moments in which the mind came back to itself from the comforting last resort of sleep. Dreams did not come for Ember, not since that terrible night in the cage, but the emptiness was comforting in its own way. Time did not matter, his surroundings did not matter...

He had always forced himself awake by reminding himself, in his half-awake state, that Storm needed him, that his job was not done.

Now, there was no reason to get up. None at all. He could sleep in...

Sleep forever...

O-O-O-O-O

Sometime later, Ember became aware of an unpleasant sensation. It was far away, but it was just annoying enough to rouse him this time, partially through some dulled sense of curiosity. Opening his eyes felt like lifting iron bars with his eyelids. Maybe it wasn't worth the effort...

"...up!" A voice, sounding far away. "Before Storm tries to wake you!"

"If I must," Ember grumbled, forcing his eyes open for a moment. Sight blurred, then solidified, blurry shapes becoming objects, people in two cases. Pearl, poking him with a claw, and Storm in the background, glaring at him. A lukewarm reception, to say the least.

"Why are you waking me?" Ember glanced up at Pearl, meeting her pale red eyes. "I'm tired. So tired..."

"Because we have been here for three days!" Storm burst out angrily. "We needed to recover, but this is pushing it!"

"Leave me then." Ember groaned. "I want to sleep." He closed his eyes. Tired. Not physically, though at times he felt like the anguish in his heart must have a physical source, it was so strong.

Sadly, he could not close his ears so easily.

"Lazy lump!"

"Shut up!" That was Pearl. He hadn't known her to be forceful or rude, though to be fair he didn't know her well at all. "This is bad, and he's not being lazy! He must be dehydrated and hungry, but instead he wants to sleep?! You really think that's just laziness?"

At that, he did feel extremely thirsty, and something in his body informed him that this lack of water would kill him. Soon, now. A matter of hours, maybe. He didn't care.

"I do not know what goes through the deranged head of a dragon like him! Maybe he just does not care!"

"You're right, Storm." Pearl's voice was soft and sad. "He doesn't care. At all." She nudged Ember forcefully. "So I'm going to care for him because I'm not letting my rescuer die like this."

"Who said he would die? He will get up when it gets bad enough-"

"Three. Days. Dragons can very rarely go four days without water if they have food, but he has eaten nothing. Three days. This will kill him. Imminently." Pearl snarled. "I'm not letting your stubbornness kill him. It must be a fever or something, a sickness caused by festering wounds. I knew I should have just treated him!" She sounded almost tearful.

A rush of wings, a lack of sound, save for Storm's irritated breathing pattern.

"Piece of dragon dung." Storm growled, and Ember assumed she was glaring at him. "You have got her in a frenzy, for whatever reason. She will not just leave you, and I am not going anywhere alone." There was a waver in Storm's voice at that. "Just get up already!"

Ember did not feel inclined to anything that his sister ordered, but Pearl...

He had not wanted her to blame herself for anyone's death. His own fit into that category. But he truly couldn't move or drum up the will to do anything. He might actually be pretty far gone. It was out of his paws.

O-O-O-O-O

A cold wetness invading Ember's personal space brought him around again, though it was even harder than last time to open his eyes. Things felt odd, his scales unnaturally dry. The room was wavering, no matter how much he tried to focus.

"Open your mouth." Pearl nosed at a pile of white stuff right in front of Ember's head. It was touching his nose, the watery cold he had felt. "Now. There's no time."

With a force of will that felt like the last of his energy, Ember cracked his mouth open, unlocking his jaws. Before he could even react, not that said reaction would have been much, Pearl nosed the snow into his mouth, quickly pushing more in.

The sensation of freezing cold on his gums, and even better, of water soaking his parched mouth as the snow instantly began to melt, triggered an instinctive reaction. Ember closed his mouth and immediately swallowed.

"Good." Pearl purred, looking Ember in the eye. "Want more?" Her voice was unnaturally cheery, and Ember had a faint suspicion he was being babied like a sick hatchling.

"Like a hatchling runt." Storm remarked caustically from somewhere nearby. Well, it appeared he wasn't the only one thinking that.

Suddenly desperate to prove Storm wrong, Ember mustered the strength to lift his head and grab more of the snow, compulsively swallowing. Each mouthful felt like a punch to the stomach, cold that somehow forced the lethargy out of his system, if only temporarily.

"Good!" Pearl exclaimed in genuine excitement. "But you're still thirsty, right?"

Ember nodded, not able to speak with his still-dry throat. Pearl's enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself wanting to make her happy.

"I'll bring more snow, but this time hold it in your mouth until it melts." Pearl left, and returned a moment later with another wingful of snow, sidling awkwardly into the cave.

It became apparent that it was not only a wingful when she looked at Ember apologetically and dropped a half-melted load of snow out of her mouth onto the top of the pile.

Ember was too thirsty to be picky, and he grabbed a large mouthful of snow, this time holding it and letting it melt. Inside the mouth of a fire-breathing reptile, that did not take long at all.

They repeated the process until Ember felt better, his stomach full of water, if not food. He was hungry now, but that truly could wait-

"Nope, not stopping there." Pearl snapped at Ember as he made to lay his head down again. "I'm not letting you sleep until you get out of this cave and relieve yourself." She seemed to realize what she had said a moment later, and quickly hid her face under her wing. Storm snorted in amusement.

"Okay," Ember rasped and did as told. With a stomach full of water, he knew he would be creating copious amounts of yellow snow in the area directly connected to their cave many more times in the next day or so. Maybe that had been Pearl's plan, to force him to get up more often.

Now that he wasn't half asleep, Ember didn't like that he had made Pearl worry... but he had intended what was happening. It was an inherent contradiction. He could not let himself die as he wanted, for Pearl's sake, but he could not see a reason to stay in this world.

Maybe... Storm and Pearl needed him a little while longer? He could not muster up any motivation with that thought. The truth was, though Storm seemed to have an issue with splitting with them for the moment, both she and Pearl were adult Furies of various kinds. They did not need him.

But maybe he could journey with them for a while? Not as a purpose, but as a way to keep himself alive long enough to properly mourn. It was a strange thought and one that did not make him happy either...

Though it looked like he'd be staying in this world for a little while longer, if only because Pearl would keep pulling him back from the brink out of some sense of duty or guilt. He might as well accept that for his own reasons.

O-O-O-O-O

"I am not fishing for him. He can get his own food." Storm huffed, leaving the cave.

Pearl felt like screaming, or maybe playing target practice with Storm as the target. Three days. The first two had been fine, as both she and Storm had spent most of them asleep, reveling in being safe and free by doing absolutely nothing aside from the bare minimum to be comfortable. It was when the third day rolled around, and Ember had by all appearances never moved, that things started to come to a head.

Pearl still wanted to believe Storm was acting out of hurt, still sad and taking it out on everyone around. She would continue to believe it for as long as she had to interact with Storm because the alternative was not acceptable. She would not lose her temper with the snappish and sullen Night Fury. Losing her temper was not attractive-

That half-formed thought, almost instinct, made Pearl want to break something. It was a reminder of why she was out here, why she was in no hurry to find her way home, why she was willing to put up with Storm, at least in part.

Because Storm, despite her terrible attitude, or maybe because of it, had become something of a role model for Pearl. Pearl did not want to be like Storm, but there were certain facets of the acerbic Night Fury's attitude and mannerisms that she felt a definite improvement over the ones drummed into her.

Not being afraid to lose her temper was one she had long mastered, but it was not enough. Not even close to enough.

But that would only come with time. Which was one of the two reasons Pearl was not intending to strike out on her own any time soon.

The other reason shifted and rolled in his sleep behind her. That was a good sign, as it indicated a lighter sleep than before.

Ember's ailment, whatever it might be, was a mystery at the moment. Pearl went over the signs of infection as she began to lick the wounds Ember had uncovered through rolling. She knew this, it was one of the few things her Dam had taught not related to-

No. Concentrate. The raw patches were especially painful-looking, but they showed no signs of rot, no heat from infection. Just like every other injury she had treated.

It was so frustrating! He wasn't hot, at least not unusually so. He was not cold in a way that would indicate a problem, not shivering or pained, from what she could see. He just wanted to sleep, and before had preferred it over water even to the point of being on the brink of death.

Pearl was beginning to suspect it might not be a normal problem. Ember was not a normal dragon, though she had not yet gotten that promised explanation. It was entirely possible he knew what he was suffering from and did not have the strength to inform her. If it was something unique to his abilities, some sort of stress from overuse, she would not know.

Stymied, Pearl sat down and considered for a moment Ember's strange powers. She yearned to know how he did it. To be able to do so herself, if at all possible, as a last resort. Though not in the way most would think. She was not entirely interested in those blue flames so much as being able to turn into a No-scaled-not-prey.

It was a thought anyone in her pack would have recoiled in horror from, though they had not known No-scaled-not-prey and would remain safely hidden and isolated thanks to Ember. She had only learned the name of their strange kind from another dragon, one who had been a fellow captive for a short time on the long journey. The same journey she had learned the language of those same No-scaled-not-prey, quite by accident… and because listening to pointless babble had been more interesting than Gold.

Surely there were those in her pack who had known of No-scaled-not-prey, but they were so isolated that no one had thought to tell her of them. It wasn't like anyone ever left the valley the pack, once wanderers, now called home. Isolation was good, as it was safety.

Then again, that isolation was a large part of what had brought the pack to its current customs and systems, the things that had tortured her to the point where she did not want to go back. No, she didn't want to think about it. She had left, and would not return unless there was no alternative.

Pearl shook her head sadly. Her pack was not capable of even thinking about why it did what it did. Really, they were not incapable so much as unwilling. Of course, that made sense, as the ones who mattered benefitted, and the rest accepted it as the way things were. Or even embraced it, like her mother.

She needed to talk to someone. She poked Ember. He needed to get up every so often anyway. Aside from that, Storm was not there at the moment, and as she had no desire to share her problems with Storm, that was perfect.

O-O-O-O-O

Waking was easier, if slow, and still not at all a guaranteed process. The feeling he now identified as a claw poking his side was easier to ignore, but he knew he shouldn't do so. So, he heaved his eyes open and even lifted his head a small distance. Such progress.

"Good, you're awake." Pearl seemed nervous. "If you need to go outside, you should."

Ember thought about it. "Not at the moment." His voice was better, if not entirely back to normal.

"Then you're staying awake until you do." Pearl declared. "If you find that hard, then maybe now would be a good time-"

"This will not become a routine, Pearl." Storm interrupted, throwing two fish into the cave as she entered. "And both of those are for the sleeping lump. I am not getting food for a perfectly healthy dragon."

"At least you have come around to the perfectly obvious fact that he is sick." Pearl retorted, taking the fish and placing them in front of Ember. "And we will alternate in getting him food, as is fair."

"Fair would be for him to get up and do it himself." Storm sat down at the mouth of the cave, looking outside as she did.

"He'll make it up to you when he can if you're really that petty, Storm," Pearl growled disapprovingly, then turned her now stern gaze on Ember. "Eat." Her tone implied that if he made a fuss, she would deal with him in a very likely embarrassing way.

Ember had no desire to find out how that would work. He quickly swallowed both fish, reflecting with a brief flash of amusement upon the fact that embarrassment seemed to be an effective motivator, if nothing else.

"Now, as we need you awake for a while anyway," Pearl continued in what was almost a disappointed tone, though Ember did not think it was directed at him, "maybe you can explain all of..." she nodded at him. "This? How you fought Second in the ship..."

"Yes." He might as well. Memories of his sons were painful because they were entwined throughout the story, but now was the time for such memories anyway. As long as he could continue to speak, he did not care what emotions he displayed.

Remembering Pearl's requests from before, Ember decided not to give the kind dragon false hope. "You must first understand that this is as much a curse as a gift, and not one I would wish on anyone. Also, it is not one that is within anyone's power to grant, at least not anymore."

That wiped much of the hope off of Pearl's face, though not the curiosity. "But what is it?" The perking of Storm's ears in the background indicated she too was listening.

And so Ember spoke of Vithvarandi, of what she was and what she could do. He went through all he knew of her first, from the simple observations to the cryptic clues she had given him as to her past and her state of mind. Then, reluctantly, he told of his lives, both that which led up to his death as Ember and then of his life as Hiccup. Truly, all of his stories were locked together, as they flowed into each other, the loose ends of one situation becoming the catalyst for the next. It was a long, long story, and one filled with memories of Beryl, more than any of the others. It was not as difficult as he expected, speaking of Beryl. Possibly because he was telling the story to others. Maybe because memories of Beryl had always been so happy and it felt wrong to speak of him mournfully?

Whatever the reason, he made it through to the first encounter with Vithvarandi easily enough. What remained was harder, filled with conflict and other deaths he mourned, if not as powerfully as those of his dragon family.

That was, if a bit strange at first glance, understandable. At least Stoick had gone in a fittingly Viking way, killed by an enemy, probably with his hammer in hand. It had been what he expected, and not exactly Ember's fault, though it was very likely a different course of action from the moment he returned to the village could have kept Stoick alive. No, at least Stoick had died as he had wanted. To add to that, Ember had been told from a young age that he needed to measure up to his father... because he would have to replace him. Aside from making him feel hopelessly inadequate, that constant reminder that his father was going to die, and that he needed to be ready, had allowed the concept to sink in quite securely. It had been a surprise, and a shock, but not as much as it might have been.

He made his way through the conflicts, the departure into the wild, the brutal fights with Vithvarandi, the penultimate encounter in the No-scaled-not-prey nest, as he called it for their benefit. The short story of Jacin, and how she interacted with Ember, even helped him and his sons kill Vithvarandi, had definitely gotten Storm's attention. She had abandoned all pretense of ignoring him, listening and watching with an unreadable expression on her face.

Vithvarandi's final, desperate ploy hurt to recall, especially in retrospect, as it should have been obvious, predictable. He had known somewhere in the back of his mind that Vithvarandi had of course taken Flint's body, just as she had taken his, but the knowledge had been locked behind the pain of Flint's death until it was far too late. Until Spark suffered the consequences.

Unwilling to leave it at that moment, he in the end spoke of Spark's recovery, of one last visit to Berk, and of the months spent journeying back to the nest he knew best, the home he had left so long ago.

Pearl looked shaken and Storm only slightly less so by the time he lapsed into silence. He was unwilling to continue his tale any further into the start of this tragical parody of an adventure. He would not, could not tell of that.

Storm broke the silence first, her voice quiet and uncertain. "I would not believe any of that, had I not seen so much proof."

Pearl shrugged her wing-shoulders. "It is insane, but not impossible." She sadly gazed at Ember. "I don't know what else to say. 'Sorry for your loss' doesn't even begin to cover that."

"No," Ember agreed solemnly, "it does not." He got up, needing to go outside once more. When he returned, no one had moved.

"I really am tired right now," Ember began hesitantly.

"You can sleep, but I want you up with the sun tomorrow," Pearl agreed, glancing out of the cave at the sun that had only recently passed its zenith. "We should, however, decide what we're going to do then."

"Then." Ember curled into his normal sleeping position. "We will then." He knew Pearl wanted his opinion, but his part in all of this was done. He was only lingering for her benefit, because she did not understand why he was the way he was. For some reason, he could not even contemplate telling her that he was giving up, letting himself waste away, or had been until she made it clear that she would not let it happen. Now he just lingered, knowing that there was no reason to care.

O-O-O-O-O

"So what do you really think of all of that?" Storm had recovered her composure and was back to her caustic self. Pearl missed the shocked-into-near-silence version of her, even as she admired the other dragon's ability to pull herself together so quickly. Pearl still felt a bit overwhelmed.

"I think he has been through more in his life than the entirety of my pack combined." That was not a particularly impossible feat, especially given said pack's history, but it was impressive in a horrifying way.

"He is crazy." Storm made her ears sway in circles, which might have been amusing at another time. "Even if I believed he could be immortal, then I think he is crazy for not wanting to be."

"How can you say that?! You heard the costs!" It was comforting to know the one they were sharing a cave with was not of a mind to kill countless people in order to exist for millennia, and Pearl would rather not question that honorable decision. "And it's a good thing he can't teach any of it because people like you would just become more Vithvarandis." There, that was rude and insulting. Another of Dam's ingrained lessons defied, though this one would need to only be broken for good reason. Being able to break it at all was a victory nonetheless. Pearl almost felt she should thank Storm for shocking and outraging her enough to do so. Then again, she had just insulted the other dragon quite badly, so that might send quite a mixed message.

"You are the one who wanted to learn, stupid." Storm snarled quietly. "Happy to know that will never happen?" Oh, she was definitely trying to hit back. Too bad she had missed the mark completely.

"I'm a little disappointed, but the only part I wanted to learn was how to turn into a No-scaled-not-prey, so it's not a massive loss." That had been a half-formed dream, one she had only held for a few days, so it was easy enough to let go as not possible. "It is strange, to know he is two people who somehow merged." A pleasant enough outcome, according to Ember, and Pearl could see the appeal, compared to what Ember had told them of Vithvarandi, and how one of her sets of memory had dominated and restrained the other until the dominant one took over entirely. What would it be like to have another, albeit in that case similar, mind forced into hers, the memories and habits overlaying hers and mixing together?

Maybe, with the right other set of experiences, it would be an easy way to become exactly who she wanted to be. There was no real point in speculating though.

"Why?!" Storm had not liked her answer. "There is no reason to want to be one of them! They are..." She trailed off.

Pearl knew why. So Storm was not completely blind, just stubborn. After hearing all Ember had said, there was no way Storm could truthfully say that No-scaled-not-prey were lesser. The dark wing apparently had that much sense. She was not bad, just bad-tempered. It could be worse. Pearl had known worse. So much worse.

"People. Like us, but not." Pearl had a thought. "You're judging all no-scaled-not-prey based on a few bad ones. That would be like me judging your kind based only on Second and his brother. Unfair and inaccurate."

"You have no right to tell me I am being unfair-" Storm began.

"A fellow pack member was slaughtered and skinned right in front of my eyes," Pearl said blandly, trying to restrain her horror at that fact. If Ember hadn't blocked her view, she would probably have dreamed about such atrocities every night for the rest of her life. As it was, she did have nightmares, but they were nowhere near as vivid as she felt they could have been if she had watched that process all the way through. "I have as much right as you to judge, and I say it would be unfair of either of us to do so now."

"A friend?" Storm asked quietly, her eyes not meeting Pearl's.

"No, not at all." Gold had not been a friend, not even a neutral acquaintance. She was not glad he was dead, but she would be lying if she denied more than a hint of relief that he would no longer be...

It could not be called courting her, for that would imply sincere intentions and effort, neither of which Gold had or put into his pursuit of her. But she would not think of that, as she had escaped that entire system and was not planning on going back any time soon.

"Why did they kill him?" Storm had not resumed her acidic tone.

"No reason whatsoever," Pearl recalled, "just because he was of no use. They would have killed me also if Ember had not intervened multiple times, manipulating and lying to the ones in charge." She shivered. "That was after he had killed to protect the rest of my pack, and convinced the one in charge that his actions were actually beneficial." She had followed some little of Ember's explanation, but it was the tone it had been delivered in, as well as the position it had been delivered from, that had struck Pearl. Pinned under a dead body, speaking in a tone of uninterested neutrality what had to be the unfiltered truth, it had seemed. Except she knew now that it had not been his motivation, even if it had technically been true. He had told her as much.

"Ember was dangerous." Storm whispered in a strange tone. "Second did not like him, but he tolerated his presence because he did not think Ember was a threat. Then Ember knocked him out."

That particular memory felt fake, looking back, a blatant impossibility. A No-scaled-not-prey on fire, burning blue from head to toe, except for those odd brown and grey things that had served for paws. The fire had not consumed them.

But the memory did not stop there. The same being of fire taking on and beating a battle-scarred Night Fury in an intense and confusing fight. The memory of the fight itself did not make sense, as fire was not solid. Second had gotten in half a dozen killing or mutilating blows in as many seconds at one point, all shrugged off without so much as a scratch.

So much power, rebuffed so completely. Where did it come from? Fire had to burn something, and Ember himself was out, his body not even so much as scorched. So what did it burn? Second had not caught when he attacked, so it did not burn that which it repelled, not as a fuel source.

Was it possible it burned Ember's energy? That much power used up so quickly and followed by another fight...

"I know what's wrong with Ember. Well, some of what's wrong." Pure exhaustion made sense, the massive amount of energy Ember had used up in that fight taken away from him physically, but it did not explain his listlessness and odd behavior.

"What?" Storm glanced over at the sleeping Night Fury.

"I think that blue fire he uses takes a lot of energy from him," Pearl growled at the thought of just how much energy, for two brief fights to bring Ember down for three days afterward.

"That... could be it," Storm admitted.

"But not all of it. Something else is wrong, otherwise he would be improving by now." Pearl had no idea what else could be damaged, broken, or sick. She had exhausted her own knowledge. But maybe... "Do you know of any nests around here?"

"I am as new to this area as you are." Storm huffed irritably. "Why would we want to go to a nest anyway?"

"I can't help him," Pearl nodded at Ember, "but a nest will have someone who knows more than me, probably a lot more, or will be able to point us to another nest which does."

"Why should we go to the effort?" Storm did not sound as sure of herself as usual. Almost as if she was objecting out of habit, not intent.

"I owe him that much, and he's your brother." Pearl would bring out her final argument if Storm objected further, though it would be insensitive to say 'he's the only family you have left' at all.

"Fine." Storm did not sound very angry. "We have nothing better to do."

"We'll ask him if he knows of any nests tomorrow." Pearl thought about how Ember had acted the last day or so. "Don't tell him what we plan. He might refuse or do something stupid."

"Why in the world would he do that?" Confusion echoed in Storm's voice.

"I don't know, but something tells me he might." There were clues to what was the matter, little things that did not add up, but Pearl was worried she would take far too long to decipher them if she could at all with her limited knowledge. Let a more qualified dragon do it instead.


	13. Attention

"What do you want to do?" Ember asked quietly, his voice uninterested and tired. It was well after the sun had risen, and poking Ember had not worked this time. It had taken Storm dumping snow on his head to fully pull him from his stupor. None of them were in a good mood. Pearl was more worried than anything. Was Ember getting worse again?

"First, we want to ask you if there are any nests around here." Pearl asked.

Ember had traveled here, he might know of one.

"I don't know." Ember looked down. "I came straight here from the island and didn't really interact with many other dragons along the way. Just one, really, and she was isolated."

"She?" Pearl felt a hint of something unidentifiable. "What kind of dragon?"

"Timberjack." Ember groaned, looking for some reason embarrassed. "I may have almost died on her island, and she made me stay until I had recovered."

A rush of relief, though that was probably because Ember had not died there. A close call for all present. "Oh, well I guess we'll have to find some other dragons to ask."

"Why do you want to go to a nest?" Ember sounded mildly interested.

"We need to do something, and a place with other dragons is bound to be safer." That was the explanation she and Storm had agreed upon to cover up the fact that they were going to hopefully find someone more experienced to diagnose and treat Ember's mysterious issues. Pearl did not feel at all adequate in the face of Ember's lethargy, listlessness, and other subtle issues.

"Okay." Ember stood slowly. "How will we search?"

"We will not do anything." Pearl was surprised Ember felt at all up to helping search. "You are still... sick... so you'll be staying here until we know where we're going." It didn't feel quite right to call Ember sick, but it was close enough, and he would be a liability in his current state. Really, she was just happy he seemed up to flying so that when they did know where to go, he wouldn't have issues getting up the motivation to fly there.

"Will you both go?"

Pearl huffed. "That depends. Do you promise to stay here and not sleep the whole time we're out looking?" She could see Storm's unhappy expression out of the corner of her eye, and she just knew that if one of them was staying with Ember, it wasn't going to be Storm. Not without a fight.

"Fine. I promise." Ember snorted, looking at the cave exit. "There's nothing of interest out there anyway."

Not to mention that he seemed to have no desire to move. Pearl wasn't sure how aware Ember was today. That was extremely worrying.

With a flurry of last-minute fishing, Pearl and Storm stocked the cave, enough for a day's meal for one dragon. Water Ember had proven capable of handling himself, given copious amounts of snow were just outside the cave... and if not, it was only a day. No water would be uncomfortable, but not particularly dangerous.

Pearl felt an odd twinge of worry as she and Storm flew away. Really, this might be the oddest way she could think of to repay a rescuer. Still, it was what was right.

Storm veered off to the South, and Pearl continued to the West. They would search for the day and then return, taking precautions to not be seen except by dragons.

Pearl had insisted they split up for a reason. It was a custom of her kind, or maybe just her pack, that no outsider could see what she was about to do. She wasn't sure if there was a good reason to hold to that, but Storm had not gained her trust so there was no real reason to break custom in this instance.

Ember probably knew it was possible, and the evil No-scaled-not-prey that had skinned Gold knew something. Not enough, to think that dead scales or skin could replicate what she could do, what any living Light Fury could do, but they had clearly been laboring under that idea.

She shivered, flying a little bit faster. No, it was best not to linger on Gold's fate.

It was time. She dove, spinning and firing in front of her, moving through the superheated cloud of fire her plasma blast created when it exploded in front of her, feeling the odd tingling of her skin and scales.

From a distance, she was now invisible. Up close, she could be seen as an absence, a place where light did not behave quite correctly. It was not perfect, and it would wear off in an hour or so, but it was good. It was safety. Hidden.

Now, time to search.

O-O-O-O-O

She renewed her camouflage several times over the course of the next few hours, working her way further West. It became clear she was on to something when she began to spot other dragons of different kinds in the distance. Luck was with her today, possibly to balance out the horrible luck her life normally seemed to operate under. There would be a nest nearby.

But it would be easier to find out if the nest held what she sought before going there. Pearl grimaced. Her ability would not wear off as long as her scales were even slightly warm, and they held heat quite efficiently. This was not going to be pleasant. Nevertheless, she couldn't exactly talk to the pair of Nadders fishing in the distance as she currently was, invisible.

A quick scan of her surroundings brought to her attention a small rock outcropping, barely breaking the surface of the water. Perfect. She dropped onto it, shivering at the sub-freezing water now lapping at her tail.

Best to make this quick. Pearl jumped into the sea, gasping and spluttering as the absolutely freezing water hit her, and before she could bolt out, she forced herself to roll over, covering her body in water. Then, her task done and scales freezing cold, she bolted out of the water and clung to the rocks she had landed on.

This was a dangerous maneuver, if only because it was so cold. But she had a way to at least dry herself. As her scales held heat, they also held this horrible cold. She quickly flamed herself, as much of herself as she could reach, relaxing as the bone-numbing chill retreated to something bearable. As long as she did not fully dry herself, the camouflage would not return.

She couldn't do that too often. It might actually kill her if she ever couldn't recover from the freezing shock of the water. The chill meant no more camouflage, at least for the time being. That was worrying, but she didn't really need to hide anyway. It just made her feel safer. She was used to lurking out of the way, hidden, whether camouflaged or not. She had plenty to hide from. Gold, her Dam, and-

No. She was not going back unless there was nothing else for her to do, which didn't seem possible out in this endless world that she did not know. Besides, she wasn't going back until she had broken every single habit her Dam had instilled in her. It would be too dangerous to go before then.

In the beginning, she had not even been able to contemplate leaving. Being caught with Gold on the outskirts had been a coincidence. She could not thank those evil No-scaled-not-prey for anything they had done, but they had at least taken her away, far away. She may never have gotten up the courage to do it herself. One did not leave the pack. Especially one such as her, though she had more reason than any to want an escape.

She shivered, staring at the Nadders in the distance, her eyes not really seeing them. She still wanted to talk to Ember about that, now more than ever, if only because she was pretty sure he would listen and understand if nothing else. But Ember's issues needed to be addressed first.

That brought her mind back to the present. The Nadders, satisfied with their catch, were flying away. She quickly launched into the air, forced her cold and now cramped wings to propel her forward faster, and caught up to them.

The larger of the two, the female, a bright yellow in coloration, squawked with indignation when Pearl pulled up alongside her, matching her speed. "What are you doing?"

"Are you going to a nest?" Pearl tried to sound firm, if polite.

"Of course! You are not?" The other Nadder seemed more polite. He was a deep blue with off-white stripes. "Where do you come from, if not the ice nest? It is the only one for a long way."

"Far from here." If this ice nest he spoke of didn't have what Ember needed, then they might be in trouble. "Does your nest have a healer or someone skilled in the workings of the mind?" That second one wasn't something she had ever seen, but her pack did have stories about a Light Fury who could almost read minds, old stories that were very vague and confusing in many ways.

"Why do you want to know?" The female screeched rudely. "You are not sick, although I cannot speak for your head."

Pearl easily ignored the insult. "One of my traveling companions is, and I do not understand what is wrong with him." She lowered her head. "He almost died for no reason I can see just a few days ago."

"Then you are in luck," the male replied soothingly, shooting his companion a subtle glare. "Our nest has both, though one is away at the moment. Our Alpha is well-versed in the ways of the mind. He has helped dragons before."

"And more than dragons." The female chuckled. "He is powerful enough to get through the thick skulls of No-scaled-not-prey too."

Pearl did a double-take. "He's helped them?" She was under the impression Ember and the island he changed were unique. They were not at Ember's old nest, were they? Surely he would have mentioned such a powerful alpha.

"One. She is a part of our nest, and a trusted commander outside." The male sighed. "I was not chosen to accompany her latest mission, sadly, but I know they left, and will not be back for quite a while. Still, our alpha can help."

"How far is your nest?" Pearl was inwardly cheering. There was actually someone who could do something for Ember around!

"Follow us," the male offered. "It is not far, but you should explain to the Alpha what you wish of him before you bring your friend here."

"Okay, and thank you." Pearl shivered, momentarily cowed by the idea of speaking to an alpha. Her experiences with that were not-

No. This one would be nothing like him. And he would be nothing like that No-scaled-not-prey Second followed, or the horrible Queen Ember had spoken of. Surely this one would be all that an alpha should be. She could speak to him.

For Ember's sake, she would speak with him.

O-O-O-O-O

The ice nest truly was not far, which was lucky. Even this relatively short trip would probably push Ember to his limits, weakened and listless as he was. At the moment though, Pearl was too busy gawking at the amazing sight to consider the possible difficulties.

It was an unnatural and yet somehow natural sight, a massive iceberg that appeared to have been ripped out of a larger chunk of ice, with jagged edges and spikes that spoke of no naturally-frozen water Pearl knew, and so cold that it was deep blue and green. Hundreds of dragons swarmed the area around it, and there was a steady stream of dragons both entering and exiting the ice structure from the top, clueing Pearl in to the fact that it was hollow.

She held her questions, not wanting to distract her guides who were taking her to the alpha. If she annoyed them or got them sidetracked, which seemed all too possible, she might have to find the alpha among all of these dragons herself.

She followed the Nadders to the top of the massive ice mountain, and dove as they did, entering… something not at all like she had been expecting.

Wasn't ice supposed to be cold? It felt warmer inside the ice than outside! And there was green plant life, grass and other growing things, thriving in this place. Inside a mountain of ice, Pearl was warmer than she had been all day out under the sun.

There were plenty of dragons too, of all kinds, though she saw none like herself. Hundreds… but finding the alpha would not have been a problem. He was in a deep pool in the center of it all, looking out upon his domain.

The Nadders left her on a small island, which was situated on the edge the a pool of seawater, one that evidently connected to the ocean outside.

"Hello." The alpha greeted her politely. His voice was extremely loud and yet soothing, the latter something she definitely wasn't expecting from a dragon the size of a small mountain. "I am the alpha here."

"I thought so," Pearl admitted. "You are impressive."

The alpha chuckled. "I am big. That in itself is not impressive, at least for my kind." He rested a tusk next to Pearl. "You seem troubled. Do you need help?" His voice was kind.

"I am here for help, but not for myself." Pearl resisted the urge to tell this dragon her own problems. She was pretty sure he would listen, which is why she wanted to speak, but something stopped her. Truly, her problems weren't things he could help with. Ember's, on the other hand... "One of my companions is sick, and I am not sure why or what is hurting him." She gave a quick recounting of Ember's symptoms.

"Interesting..." The alpha huffed out a thick mist of frost over Pearl's head as he thought. "I cannot say yet. Bring him here, and let him speak to me. I can examine his mind?" That last part was a question. "I do not do so without consent, but if his illness is of the mind he may be unable to give it. You or another he holds dear must permit me in this case."

Pearl hesitated. She really didn't count as one Ember held dear, but Storm might not either, given how she acted. Getting Storm to allow it shouldn't be difficult, but it might be. "Yes, I give you permission, as long as you do not hurt him."

"I am told it is entirely unnoticeable, as I am so good at it," the alpha admitted. "That is part of why I do not do so unadmitted. My subjects know and take comfort from the fact that they will not be mentally invaded and never know about it." There was wry amusement in his words. "Bring your companion to me. You do not have to tell him why, if you feel it best he not know."

"Probably," Pearl admitted. She had gotten the feeling that Ember didn't really care about his own condition. It was hard to say how he would react to the idea of getting actual help. Best not to risk it.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Now his voice was curious. "I can examine his mind itself, but not his individual memories. That is a limitation I impose upon myself. I will not invade privacy personally."

"He is..." She was not qualified to give this explanation. "He is not natural, but he is good at heart, better than anyone I know." Not a difficult competition for Ember, to be honest. "I don't really know what you'll see, but I very much doubt it will resemble anything you've ever seen before."

"Unique... not natural..." The alpha mused consideringly. "Interesting. I look forward to this, and hope I can help."

O-O-O-O-O

The trip back to their temporary living area took most of the rest of the day, time Pearl spent flying and trying not to worry. It was absurd to wonder if an adult dragon who had survived far worse than she could comprehend had eaten properly, but it was a valid worry in this case. She alit on the ledges that led to their caves just before sunset and noted with a mixture of relief and embarrassment a discolored patch of snow in an out-of-the-way spot. That embarrassment was probably another lingering method of thought instilled by her Dam, though it didn't quite match what her Dam had been trying to accomplish. Still, if it was from her Dam, it needed to be ignored and if possible broken as a habit.

Pearl walked into the cave and noticed with dissatisfaction that Ember was asleep. He slept far too much. It was almost scary how he only wanted to sleep despite days of doing exactly that. She poked him on the side of his head, noting with worry that he took longer and longer to respond to that same prompting she always used. Maybe she needed to come up with a different way to wake him if he was getting used to this one.

The cold snow had done much better than her claw ever did. Maybe it was the wetness? She knew she didn't like water on her when she was sleeping. Pearl tentatively licked Ember right across the nose.

He started in his sleep, his eyes opening quite quickly. Success! Pearl purred happily. "That works quite well."

"Did you lick me?" Ember sounded almost affronted, though there was something else in his voice.

"Did you sleep all day?" Pearl retorted, hoping he hadn't.

"Not all day. Some of the day," Ember admitted, "But no more than half. I stayed awake for a while." He didn't sound particularly guilty.

I suppose that is acceptable, this time." It wasn't like she could really get mad at him, or punish him like one would a fledgling. "We're going somewhere tomorrow, and you'll need all the strength you can get." She glanced towards the exit of the cave. "It is night. You may go back to sleep for now." Really, if she wasn't trying to get him back to some sort of normal sleep pattern she might insist he stay up to make up for the time he spent asleep in the day, but that would just make it more confusing.

"Where?" Ember sounded vaguely interested.

"An ice nest." She said no more, not wanting to get into the more dangerous question of 'why'.

"Interesting..." Ember closed his eyes. Silence descended upon the cave.

That silence was broken by Storm, who arrived just as the sun disappeared completely below the horizon. She shook herself at the entrance. "Such a waste of time."

Pearl checked Ember's breathing, entirely unsurprised that he was already dead to the world. "No, not entirely. I found exactly what we need."

"Already?" Storm sounded relieved. "Good, no more searching alone." She quickly corrected herself. "It gets boring."

Pearl let no sign of amusement show. "It does." That wasn't why Storm cared though. If the Night Fury found even Pearl's presence comforting, it was very unlikely she would leave their little group. "Their alpha is willing to see Ember, and is apparently quite skilled in the ways of the mind."

"Good." Storm cast a glance at Ember. "To understand that one, he will need to be skilled."

Pearl was unwilling to start an argument, but that didn't sit right with her. "He is not that complex. Not now, anyway." She did not know him before his mind had been changed, as either of his selves. To her, he was simply one dragon with a strange past. That was not so hard to understand.

"So you say," Storm huffed. "Then why do you not know what is wrong with him?"

Pearl had no answer for that.

O-O-O-O-O

In the morning, Pearl licked Ember again, not willing to waste time on other methods that were not as effective. He woke even faster than before, his eyes snapping open. "I don't like this method," he complained, standing as he did.

"Too bad, it works." Pearl laughed. "If it stops working, I will find something else." She really didn't know what that would be, but she would make it just as annoying. Maybe if she did he would start waking on his own to avoid it.

"It works too well." Ember shook his head. "We are going now?"

"Yes." Storm poked her head into the cave. "Hurry up."

In a few minutes, all three of them were in the air, Ember flying fairly well, if a bit slower than Pearl or Storm would prefer to travel. Neither of them complained. It was a surprise he could even hold to this pace.

Though really, why was it surprising? They had seen him fly much faster than this the night of their escape, and he had done nothing but sleep and rest since then. Logically, he should be rested, if nothing else. That did not seem to be the case.

It was a good thing they were currently going to someone who could help because Pearl was getting no closer to knowing how to help Ember, or even what was wrong.

She watched the reactions of both her companions as the ice nest finally came into view after hours of flying over the ocean. Storm did not seem too impressed, having probably seen plenty of nests before. Ember seemed more interested in the ice than in the dragons.

"How do they keep it frozen?"

It took Pearl a moment to realize he had asked her. "The alpha does it, I think." He had blown frost over her head and was the only thing big enough to conceivably keep this massive structure cold. "He wants to meet you, by the way."

Ember shrugged mid-air, dropping slightly as he did, and then recovering. "I seem to meet the alpha of every nest I visit," he remarked neutrally. "Now?"

They entered the nest, and Pearl nodded towards the island in front of the massive dragon, whose eyes had gone to them the moment they entered. "Yes."

Ember growled at the sight of the alpha. "I don't have the best history with huge dragons." Nevertheless, he landed in front of the alpha. After a gesture from the alpha, Pearl and Storm quickly followed.

"Greetings." The alpha somehow managed to subtly nod to Pearl, despite his size. "I wish to speak to all three of you." A tusk thudded into the ground nearby. "I can do so mentally, and hold these conversations all at once, to save time."

Pearl felt her mouth drop open. "You can do that?" How in the world could he hold even two conversations at the same time, let alone three?!

"It is a talent of mine." The alpha glanced at Ember, who was glaring. "Relax, scarred one. I will do nothing more without your consent, or the consent of your companions." That last bit was said nonchalantly, as if the alpha did not see it happening.

With that, all three Furies by some unspoken agreement moved over and set their paws on the massive tusk.

"You seem surprised." The alpha's voice seemed muted, but no less strong. It almost felt like she was hearing it physically, just without the vibrating air that accompanied his speech normally.

"It is surprising," Pearl freely admitted. "And you can examine him like this?"

"While holding an innocent conversation with him and with the other dark one." The alpha chuckled mentally. "I will give you a play-by-play, as you seem to wish to understand. The other has rejected my offer, preferring only to hear my conclusions. As for the patient, I am asking him innocent questions and holding him here with politeness. He is able to converse fairly easily, if not in a relaxed way. That is promising."

"I do want to know." Pearl waited. The alpha hummed thoughtfully.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice clear and almost excited. "I can see his mind, not the physical, but the mental aspect. It is like nothing I have ever known." At that, his voice darkened. "I will go by the oldest wounds first."

"Wounds?" That did not sound good.

"Wounds," the alpha confirmed with a mental growl. "Of all sorts. First, and this is oldest, there are the small scars of an attempted takeover, quite like what my kind could potentially do, though not in the same place. Somehow, it did not take hold, though it should have, given his mind as it is now. It is as if he was not a dragon at the time, somehow not possessing the necessary instincts to subvert, though that part of him is normal now from what I can see."

Pearl thought back to the story Ember had told, and how he and his son had taken on an enslaving Queen. He had been purely human then. "I understand that. It makes sense."

"As long as you know," the alpha rumbled, "as it is of no consequence compared to what came later. His mind is fractured, broken. Something was forced into it, something that gives him foreign, false memories. This is bad and evil. Or, it should be." The alpha's voice was considering. "Normally, and I have seen something similar, the mind subconsciously rejects these intrusions, even if the subject is unaware of anything amiss. There is a rare species of dragon capable of weakening their prey with false memories induced through venom, and I have treated survivors. This is different. The mind is not inflamed, not fighting the memories. He has accepted and embraced them?"

"Yes, he has. That too is normal." Pearl really didn't know what was wrong with Ember, but it had not started at that point in his past.

"There is more. So much more." The alpha paused. "Next in his past, he was mentally invaded by another, one with far less subtle skills. This invader managed to read some memories, those that are most painful to him, but little else."

"I don't know about that." That was worrying.

"Next, his mind was probed yet again, by another with only the faintest shadow of an ability." The alpha hummed in dark amusement. "Incredible force of will, but no technique, like a wave crashing against a rock and doing nothing but getting it wet. This invasion seemed to happen multiple times, each getting nothing more than a faint impression of current surface emotions. Worthless."

"I don't know about that either." Pearl had a thought. "Will what you're doing leave a scar?" It was an odd concept.

"No, it will not. Think of my work like submerging oneself in water, as opposed to being stabbed by a spike of ice." The alpha snorted mentally, this snort unaccompanied by the frost his physical form could produce. "I do not press, I simply let the overall impression be taken. I have enough raw power and experience to not have to focus my ability to do so."

"Is that all that has happened to him?" Pearl almost hoped there was more, something wrong, something that would explain Ember's issues.

"No. There is one more, far more common issue." The alpha huffed sadly. "He is insane."

"Come again?" Pearl couldn't have heard that right. "He's not crazy."

"No, but the insanity is there." The alpha sounded impressed. "Whatever that odd memory-invading thing in him is, it has given him practice sectioning off his mind. There are no current barriers between memories, as he has accepted them, but he must be able to create such barriers because the madness is almost completely cut off from the rest of him by a stronger barrier than I myself might be able to make. If he pushed hard enough, he could probably rid himself of it entirely."

"Is that what's wrong with him?" Insanity, but not?

"I am tracing the source." The alpha sounded distracted. "Madness stems from something, somewhere that broke to let it form, to let it in." After a moment, he let out a long sigh. "And there it is. I wish I could show you what I see."

"You can't?" It seemed an odd limitation.

"I cannot describe it, and I cannot show what I do not fully understand." An image flashed in Pearl's mind of Ember as he was, his body. "I understand this. I do not understand the complete workings of the mind. I know the why, but not the how." The image of Ember leaped into the air, but it looked unnatural. "I do not know exactly how flight works, not being able to fly myself, and even watching others fly for centuries is not enough to give me the knowledge of how. Thus, I can barely show it, and it looks wrong."

"I understand." It was an odd feeling, seeing something in her mind and knowing it was put there by another. "So can you tell me?"

"Yes. Simply put, he has nothing to live for." The alpha moaned sadly. "Has he, by any chance, lost much recently?"

Pearl remembered Ember's story. "Everything," she whispered.

"That is why. He does not want to live, subconsciously seeing nothing worth remaining for. Aside from some small, impermanent desire, that if I am reading it correctly, consists of not wanting you to blame yourself for his death."

Pearl almost removed her paw from the alpha's tusk. "Seriously?! That's all that's keeping him alive?!"

"No, it is all that is stopping him from ignoring you and letting himself waste away." The alpha did not sound optimistic. "He cannot in good conscience let himself die with you around, but he cannot find any reason to truly want to live."

"Is there any way you can," Pearl tried to phrase it politely, "give him some sort of mental nudge? Convince him he should find something else to live for?"

"There is nothing I can do in that manner. He will latch onto anything that is a real reason to remain, for his body does not want to die, only his mind. But a purpose will only last until it is fulfilled."

"But it will buy us time to find something else." Pearl was not going to give up. "What can motivate him?"

"Two things, one of which is a purpose and impermanent." The alpha sighed. "The first, and less favorable, is revenge. If he lost those he loved at the fault of another, setting him against them will keep him going until they are gone, or until he loses the conviction that there is anyone to blame but himself."

That could work, as a temporary measure. "And the other?"

"Love, of any kind." The alpha chuckled darkly. "A true friend, though such a bond is unlikely to form in his current state. Family, brothers, sisters, A Dam or Sire, or even a caring relative not so close. Does he have any such remaining?"

"You're talking to his sister, but she-"

"Is not suitable, not like this." The alpha cut Pearl off knowingly. "She feels guilt, but it is too deeply buried to drive her to be the family he needs, not for a very long time. Only time will allow her to truly forgive. I do not even need to look into her mind to understand this."

"So..?" Was that it?

"All that is left is affection of another kind," the alpha continued. Pearl felt like he was somehow staring at her mentally. "The question is, is he capable of returning new affection?"

Pearl, with a sick feeling in her stomach, recalled Ember's heartbroken recollections of Flint, long gone. "I'm not sure."

"And are you willing or capable of giving such affection?" The alpha was definitely mentally disapproving of her now. She squirmed under his gaze. "I cannot tell if you truly desire him, or only see him as an escape and a duty rolled into one."

When had this become about her?! "Hey, you aren't supposed to look into my mind!"

The alpha chuckled. "Storm requested it of me, as she does not understand your thought process either. If you are willing to sanction it for another without their consent, you must be willing to have the same done for yourself."

"You like to trick people," Pearl griped, feeling very vulnerable.

"When it is for their own good, yes." The alpha returned to his scolding tone. "I cannot read your heart, and I do not read your memories, but I can see these subconscious wants. If you truly desire him as a mate of more than convenience, then that might be enough. If you do not, not in the deepest part of your heart, it would still be possible for you to convince him otherwise, but it would not last and you would be guilty of torturing the one you wish to save."

"What if I really don't know?" Pearl asked plaintively. "I didn't even know I was considering him like that!" She had only known him for a few days.

"Really?" A probing question was shot back. "Or do you simply not want to admit you have already fallen for him? I find it hard to believe you do not know yourself well enough to recognize it. It is a subtle spark, the very beginning of attraction, but still recognizable."

That hit at her in a different way. "I don't find that hard to believe at all. It's not like I know how any of that is supposed to work."

"You have no role models, no examples to compare yourself to?" Now the alpha's voice was softer. "Then I suppose you may genuinely not have understood it. I am sorry for revealing your own feelings before you knew them. I suppose it is quite disorienting."

"You've got that right," she admitted. "But I don't know… anything, really. Not about this."

"Then..." The alpha sighed. "I cannot advise you on that. As the only one of my kind I have ever seen, I truly do not understand love of that kind either. I can tell you the path most likely to save him, though it is by no means certain. The rest is up to you."

"Please."

"Point him at those who are responsible for the deaths of the ones he loved." The alpha's voice was sad. "Accompany him on his quest for vengeance. You and his sister. She will be given time to truly forgive him, and you will be given time to understand your true feelings, and act accordingly."

Pearl thought back to Ember's displays of power. "That won't take him very long if he survives. What if it isn't enough time?" She truly didn't know what Ember could do if motivated.

"There is no better option." A mourning sound. "None at all. He will not last long, even here. He has already requested I speak to you and help you understand, subtly of course, that he is not your responsibility. If I did not believe he had any chance of being saved, I would do so." With that, the connection was let go. Pearl stepped back from the tusk, understanding that there was nothing more to be said.

Storm had already disengaged, a troubled look on her face. Ember was still there, not yet done.

"What did he tell you?" Storm demanded.

Pearl whined. "There's a chance, but it's not much of one." It relied on her understanding her own heart, or Storm letting go of her resentment. They were doomed.

**_Author's Note:_ A shoutout to The Whispering Warrior, who predicted Pearl's attraction to Ember just last chapter, despite having pretty much no intended foreshadowing in that direction. They did say 'as time passes', but to be fair it would have worked out like that had the Bewilderbeast not muddied the water by revealing the very beginning of said attraction to Pearl, assuming she knew of it.**


	14. Awkward

**_Author's Note:_ This one is a bit of a sucker-punch, so consider yourselves warned. In all the guesses as to one particular piece of this story, absolutely nobody was thinking dark enough.**

Pearl stared blankly at Ember, who was still mentally conversing with the alpha. Her mind was not at all composed at the moment, the alpha's plan the only thing keeping her from an outburst. She did not have to figure out how to keep Ember alive long enough for the other options to possibly come into play. The alpha had at least told her how to do that, and what else needed to happen in the meantime.

That didn't make it any easier to actually do so. She really wasn't sure how she saw Ember, how she saw the scarred, intriguing, and generally confusing Night Fury. Was it love? Maybe, now that she thought about it and acknowledged her own feelings. She would have had an easier time deciding if the alpha had only mentioned that possibility. But he had also implied what she now feared, that she might just be falling for the first available dragon who did not come from her pack. The first one who did not treat her like-

No. The alpha hadn't been that specific, not looking at her memories, but she knew her own fears. Ember was not like that, but she was not willing to hurt him just because she at the moment was willing to settle for anything better. That truly would be torture for one of them. Him, if she left him later because she found one who truly attracted her, or her if she stayed with him through guilt despite changing feelings.

She needed to figure it out, but she had no idea how to tell the difference.

On the other hand, Storm could always get over her own reservations sooner rather than later and embrace Ember as a sibling, truly convincing him she would miss him if he was gone.

"He should hurry up." Storm scoffed.

No, that probably wasn't going to happen. This was up to her.

O-O-O-O-O

"And are you enjoying your stay here?" The alpha asked politely.

"I have only just arrived." Ember sighed. "And I have done nothing but exchange pleasantries with you, and ask one favor." Truly, this alpha put more weight on customary greetings and small talk than anyone Ember had ever known. If he didn't know better, he would almost think the alpha was stalling, but there was no reason for him to do that. Besides, the alpha had agreed to speak to Pearl about Ember not being her responsibility. That would be helpful.

"Then feel free to stay here until something drives you back into the world." There was weight behind his words. "And know that I will not allow any death here, whether through violence... or not."

Ember flinched. "You promised not to mess with our minds without permission," he accused angrily.

"I do not need to look into your mind to see your bleakness of heart," the alpha retorted. "And your companions have told me much. They are worried for you. Both of them, in their own ways."

"Then if you would, please help them stop worrying." Something occurred to Ember. "Did you even speak to Pearl about what I asked?" The whole 'carrying three conversations at once' aspect of this made the alpha's actions hard to verify.

"I did, in a way." The alpha growled. "I value her choices as I value yours. If she chooses to ignore the advice that you should be allowed to let yourself die, then I will respect her choice. I will not coerce her towards that end."

He had not, Ember now noticed, ever confirmed that he spoke to Pearl convincingly. "You just told her what I asked you, didn't you." This one was far too sneaky.

"Yes, I did. It worried her."

"That's what I'm trying not to do!" He needed Pearl to stop caring so much so that she wouldn't be hurt or guilty when he died.

"Nevertheless, my decree remains. Here, you will live, and you will do so intentionally." The alpha growled. "You need a reason, so let this be one. I will imprison your companions for a long time if you die while here."

That was more than a little extreme. "No, you won't." What had happened to the 'benevolent leader' perception this massive dragon fostered?

"You cannot know what I am willing to do," the alpha remarked slyly, "and you cannot risk that I could be serious. Live, scarred one, and find some reason to continue doing so after you leave, which I suspect will be soon." With that, the tusk lifted away, and the Bewilderbeast sunk beneath the water.

Ember snarled and blasted the ground where the tusk had been. "Manipulative heap of dragon dung."

Storm snickered. "He got you good?" She sounded sure.

"He is very good at saying one thing and meaning something else entirely," Ember griped. In one mostly innocent conversation, the alpha had somehow hit upon a way to force Ember to remain alive while he was here.

Well, three conversations. He glanced at Pearl, who looked far more nervous than before. Yeah, that little idea had backfired. Why had he so easily trusted the alpha to actually help?

Pearl was looking at him strangely now. "We should find somewhere for ourselves, while we stay here," she eventually said, breaking the silence.

Storm nodded. "He," she glanced over at the pool, "told me the way things work." She seemed a bit embarrassed. Ember took that to mean the alpha had told her the rules, likely within about five minutes of the start of the conversation. Storm probably understood why she of the three of them had been told personally, which was why she looked so embarrassed.

"So..?" Ember prompted. He still didn't know what he was going to do now.

"The ledges are free to whoever takes them, and no fighting whatsoever." Storm grimaced. "Apparently, many of the peacekeeping dragons are away at the moment, so any fights will be dealt with personally." That was ominous. Not that Ember was planning to get into any fights. He hadn't been planning on doing anything but sleeping and remembering.

Really, he wasn't doing much conscious thought these days. He was not in charge, and he was not really that interested. It felt like a mist had descended between himself and the world, most of the time.

He would have to push that off for a while, thanks to that no-good alpha's threat. He could not afford to fall back to what had almost taken him before, not while Storm and Pearl were in possible danger if he did die.

It was an inconvenience, but only a temporary one. Unless something else gave him a new reason to care, he was simply a passive observer.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl spent the rest of the day thinking. While they chose a ledge for themselves and greeted the neighboring dragons, she pondered the question. How could she figure out what she saw Ember as, escape or genuine interest?

There was no way to tell, not now. She could only really know if...

Well, that was an option, though upon second thought it wouldn't help with her original problem. She was going to keep him alive, regardless of her own feelings, because either way, she liked him as a person. It couldn't hurt to appeal to some less intellectual parts of him to do so.

Of course, she had a few other things to do, and she had to reconcile an internal contradiction in order to put her newest plan into action.

It was the height of irony that so many of the teachings she was even now trying to forget and subvert would help her here. At least here they were being put towards a good cause.

How had those deplorable lessons gone, the ones her Dam had begun at far too early of an age? She could remember, if only because they had been repeated in angry lectures many times in later seasons. Of course, she would have to reorder them a bit. Ember was not interested at the moment, and she also did not have the same goals in mind. Not exactly.

O-O-O-O-O

The first step was to make sure Ember had a temporary grip on himself, to give him a new goal. To that end, Pearl cornered Storm when Ember went off to fish. That alone was cause to celebrate, but she barely acknowledged it in her own head.

"Did the alpha tell you?" She needed to make sure Storm understood her part in all of this... and how much the alpha had told Storm of Pearl and her possible part.

"That my brother is crazy but not, and wants to die?" Storm snorted in frustration. "Yes. Apparently, I have to stick around him, and 'truly forgive him' if I can." She huffed, pawing at the soft moss beneath their paws. "Even the alpha does not know if his mistakes are forgivable, apparently."

By you, Pearl wanted to say. He doesn't think you can really forgive Ember. But she didn't say it. She needed Storm cooperative. "That's the long-term hope. One of them. The short-term is-"

"We have to get him riled up and angry at the murderers of my Sire and Dam." Storm purred, lashing her tail. "I am all for that."

"Do you know who was responsible?" Pearl wasn't actually sure. That was one part Ember had never spoken of in detail.

"No, but he does," Storm flicked her ears towards the direction Ember had departed from. "We just need to get him to remember."

It felt cruel, but Pearl nodded. They needed Ember motivated. Though he was for the moment, for some reason. The alpha was probably responsible.

Ember dropped onto the ledge, dropping a small pile of fish out of his mouth and releasing the rest with his claws. "Storm, you wanted me to pay you back. Consider that debt gone. And Pearl, the rest is yours." Ember chuffed. "No debt, just good manners." He cast a significant glance at Storm.

Pearl eyed the fish. "Did you eat?" He had better. She wasn't letting him sneakily starve himself.

Ember laughed sourly. "Of course." He sat down on the edge of the ledge, looking down into the nest. It was a fascinating sight, but Pearl got the feeling he wasn't really seeing it.

Storm took her fish and cast Pearl a look. They should begin.

It felt very, very cruel. She could be subtle, at least. "I heard that there is a No-scaled-not-prey who lives here."

Ember nodded. "I heard the same today, as some dragons are apparently of the opinion that she could make some of my scars fade." He sighed sadly. "She might actually be able to. Who knows? But she is not here now."

Pearl wasn't sure where to go from there. "She is a good one."

"I know many good ones. And many more bad ones." Ember growled. "More bad than good."

"Like the ones responsible for the deaths of my Sire and Dam," Storm butted in.

Ember wilted at those words. Pearl felt like hitting Storm, but she supposed it needed to be done. Storm must not understand subtlety.

"Yes," he whispered. "Like him."

"Him?" Storm pushed, her voice vengeful. "A single one?"

"One, but really four," Ember growled. "Viggo Grimborn was the one who ordered the strike. Krogan was the one who bought my family, putting them in harm's way. And Drago was the one who employed Krogan, sending him out. Krogan is dead, so Viggo and Drago."

"You said four. I count three," Storm remarked.

"I am the fourth, because I failed to keep them safe," Ember groaned. "I am possibly the most responsible of all."

Not good. They needed him mad at others, not himself. "But you are not entirely responsible. Drago was the one Second called alpha?" Pearl shivered. That monstrosity of a No-scaled-not-prey might not be such an easy target. Still, if any one person deserved to die, probably in a painful way, it was that one.

"Yes. He is one of the ones responsible."

"We should kill him." Storm slowly carved a line into the ice wall behind them. "And the other you mentioned." Another line. Then she abruptly drew a whole paw of unsheathed claws across the ice, tearing the entire chunk of ice out of the wall. She threw it to the ground.

A plasma blast obliterated the small chunk of ice. Ember was standing, glaring at it, his mouth still slightly glowing. "Yes," he said after a moment, "we should. Why that has never occurred to me..." There was despair mingled with the anger in his voice, and it was clear that he still blamed himself too, but that was not what he was focused on at the moment. They had gotten the right reaction.

Pearl felt like cheering. Instead, she growled softly. "I will be there too."

Ember glanced at her. "Are you sure? This is not your fight-"

"Says who?" Pearl snarled and blasted the spot the ice had been. "I choose my enemies, and Drago for one made the list the moment he killed Gold. I did not like Gold, but he did not deserve to die, not like that."

"She comes," Storm finished. "We will need help." She did not seem happy saying that, but Pearl guessed that the alpha had said Pearl was a necessary part of the plan if nothing more.

"We leave in the morning," Ember rumbled darkly. "I know where he was going, and while we will not beat him there, we can still find it."

And so it was done. Ember had been remotivated, if not with the happiest of goals.

But… if they were killing the ones responsible… he would still fall back into wanting to die once the three humans were dead, blaming himself as the fourth guilty party. That was unacceptable. But they had bought time in convincing him he should participate in taking down the humans. She wasn't sure how long that would keep him going, but it would have to be long enough. Meanwhile, she could put her own plan into action.

O-O-O-O-O

Step one. Pearl had to wait until the early morning of the next day to put the first lesson into action. She hated recalling those humiliating lectures, especially when her Dam got a bit too into explaining what Pearl should have done, but they could give her clues as to what she actually needed to do here.

Ember needed something to live for, and Pearl didn't know if she could be it. Regardless, she needed to try. Maybe, along the way, Storm would come around, and render Pearl's efforts unnecessary, but that was optional, and unlikely to happen.

She still didn't know if she actually liked Ember. That was an issue. But her Dam's lessons never took Pearl's feelings into account anyway, so that was not new. At least here she did not loathe him to begin with, and might actually like him if she could ever figure herself out.

Also, here she had no competition, so much of her Dam's advice was rendered irrelevant. What remained was somewhat simple.

Lesson one, in this case. 'Change your routine, and get as close to him as possible without ever outright admitting why.'

Storm was still asleep. Pearl had woken early for this reason. She did not need the female Night Fury to see this. It might raise questions Pearl still wasn't sure how to answer.

The three of them were spaced out on the ledge with Pearl in the middle about three dragon-lengths of space away from a Night Fury on either side. Pearl sidled over to Ember, stopping just out of reach. She had originally planned to just resettle here, close but not touching, and claim she had shifted in her sleep. It was just far enough that Ember might suspect her excuse untrue, but could not prove it.

Now, she thought she might not have time to be quite that subtle. Who knew how long Ember's newfound will to live would last. So, she settled down, but... she might have left her tail right in front of his face. It wasn't her fault she moved in her sleep, at least hypothetically. This way, he could not miss it.

Pearl purred, satisfied, and drifted off to sleep.

O-O-O-O-O

_"Pearl!"_

_Pearl turned, her head down. She knew what she had done wrong, but that was never enough for Dam. "Yes, Dam." She obediently left the main plateau, hopping down from boulder to boulder. She ignored the amused purrs of the others as she did. They always laughed. It was her Dam's fault they were always laughing at her, but also her own._

_Her Dam was already waiting on their family's rock, one with only half of the top bathed in sunlight. It was a mediocre place to bathe in the sun, and Dam made sure to gripe about that as much as possible when Sire was around. Maybe if she didn't, Sire would be around more._

_Pearl sighed, taking her place on the shaded side of the rock. It was a bit colder there, but she was used to that._

_"You got into a fight!" Dam sounded scandalized._

_"She was making fun of... me." Pearl could not very well say that the slightly older female had been making fun of her Dam's teachings, which were somewhat common knowledge among the females of the pack._

_Nevertheless, Dam knew. "She is stupid and short-sighted, like most of them." Dam swatted Pearl with a paw. "I am teaching you to be better!"_

_"I am sorry." Pearl was sorry she had not lured the other dragon out of sight before shoving her and starting the fight. She was not sorry about fighting. If nothing else, it proved to the others that she was not..._

_"You are supposed to be calm." Dam paced on the rock. "Enticing."_

_"I am too young." Pearl voiced the complaint she had heard the other Dams of the pack muttering after one of these lectures had been a bit too public._

_"Now." Dam growled. "Get his attention now, when he can do nothing about it so that he is still watching you when you grow up."_

_That felt wrong, but Pearl couldn't argue. She, for one, didn't want to grow up if that was all that was waiting for her._

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl almost pulled her tail away after waking from that dream. Memory. Memory relived in a dream. Why was she dreaming about that now, after months of other, more normal nightmares? Surely the memory of Gold's fate would be a stronger terror to her mind than her Dam's teachings and what came of them.

Then again, she had just been pulling up and even using Dam's teachings in the moments before sleep. She made sure not to move her tail from its spot in front of Ember's face. She was still doing the right thing here.

A quick glance at the top of the ice structure, at the sky beyond, told her that it was almost dawn. Ember had wanted to be up by dawn to get an early start in complete defiance of his own lethargy, which had vanished like fog on the wind.

Pearl closed her eyes, feeling Ember's regular exhales on the sensitive membrane of her tail. Really, this was also turning out to be a good way to tell when he woke. His breathing would change, and she would feel it. That could come in handy.

A few minutes later, she felt the tell-tale hitch in his breath. She resisted the urge to open her eyes and turn her head to watch his reaction. But she did twitch her tail. That was normal, people twitched in their sleep all the time.

A soft huff of surprise was audible. He must have noticed.

Pearl wasn't expecting anything else, so she wasn't surprised when he just ignored it and stood, by the sounds. This was only the first step.

It was entertaining, on some level, that he woke her by softly barking her name. Did he not feel comfortable touching her, to poke her awake as she did him? Or did he just really find that method annoying and not want to subject her to it?

She made a show of waking up and got up as if she had no idea she had moved in the night. "Good morning," she greeted pleasantly.

"To you as well." Ember barked at Storm, who groggily replied something along the lines of go away. It was hard to tell, her voice was so muffled by sleep.

She didn't get any mention of her tail in the hurried preparations to leave, or in the day-long flight Ember lead, heading towards where Drago's ship was going. That was fine. She wasn't even close to done.

O-O-O-O-O

Step two. 'Physical contact. As much as you can innocently get in, consistently.' It was even more distasteful than the first, in the context of when that advice was given, but it was more palatable here. They had just set down for the night on a crowded sea stack that was the only thing around. Even better, she had already set a precedent for what she was planning on doing.

Pearl flopped down on the sea stack, making a show of flexing her wings, which truly were sore. She was out of practice after three moon-cycles tied up in a cage.

Storm landed on the far edge, and Ember a bit closer. Perfect. Before Ember could move, Pearl rolled over onto her back and spread her wings, as she had done that first night. It helped with the slight cramping, but her wing also brushed Ember quite thoroughly in the process of spreading it. He stared down at the wing that had come to rest on one of his front paws in bemusement.

"Better," Pearl loudly sighed. She restrained herself from laughing at Ember's face... and kept herself from checking to see how Storm was taking this. It was going to become obvious at some point. What would Storm do then? Would she even care?

Ember took a careful step back, removing his paw from under her wing. "Your wings still cramp?" He asked neutrally.

"Yes, sometimes." Pearl wiggled on her back, wondering as she did if she was going too far. "This helps."

Ember quickly turned away and settled down, not looking at her. After a while, she rolled back over. That had worked, somewhat. Not as subtle as her Dam might have liked, but then again Ember wasn't expecting to be...

What was she doing, exactly? Enticing him? That seemed about right. If he even saw her like that yet. If he could, after all he had gone through.

She was not losing hope, not yet, but it did seem she needed the rest of her Dam's teachings, where before she had harbored some hope of not having to pull all of those buried memories up again. She could probably expect another memory to show up in her dreams tonight.

In order to hopefully avert that, Pearl spent the rest of her time before drifting off to sleep wondering about Ember's family. Her thoughts drifted to what he had said of them but kept returning to Flint, though she did not know why, exactly. Searching for clues, or just wondering what she had been like.

O-O-O-O-O

_"Two moon-cycles." Crystal, another fledgling Light Fury at about Pearl's age bounced excitedly. "Two moon-cycles until the ceremony."_

_"Joy," Pearl remarked dully, not moving from her spot in the shaded sunlight. The clouds were out today, but at the moment she could warm herself._

_"What, you are not..." Crystal trailed off. "Sorry."_

_"It is fine, you know that." Pearl felt out of sorts today, for several reasons. "I am not in the best mood."_

_"Your Dam?" Crystal inquired knowingly. Then she seemed to connect the dots. "Not again. So soon after last time?"_

_Pearl nodded wearily. "Again." Another long lecture, another command that Pearl had to follow through on if she wanted to escape a moon-cycle of lectures, rants, and occasionally being smacked around. It was not a good choice either way. Her Dam's frustration and anger that Pearl refused to do as told, or her frustration and anger if Pearl failed... and worst of all, in many ways, what happened if Pearl succeeded._

_"What happened last time?" Crystal glanced around, ensuring they were relatively private. "I did not see you afterward."_

_"I failed, luckily. He got distracted and wandered off before I could catch up to him." Pearl shot a baleful glare at another fledgling, a male by the name of Gold, who was getting too close. The brat had a habit of repeating what he heard. "This is wrong."_

_"It is embarrassing if you mess it up, but why is it wrong?" Crystal didn't get it, though she did understand her friend's distaste for all of it. "We're almost adults anyway."_

_"Not yet," Pearl insisted. She had asked around, discreetly, and knew that for a fact. They were physically mature, but small, and everyone she had asked agreed they were not adults until the ceremony, and not truly adults in every sense until they had their full size. "It is not right. And besides, he is-"_

_"Do not speak ill of the alpha!" Crystal squeaked in fright, almost jumping in fear. "Someone might hear."_

_"The fact that this might work at all speaks far more ill of him than I can," Pearl muttered. She did not continue though, as she did not want to drive away the only one she could even come close to calling a friend. As airheaded as Crystal could be, she meant well. It would be very, very bad to be caught talking about the alpha like that. Word would get back to her Dam._

_Pearl glanced over at the alpha, who was lounging on the highest boulder in their valley, surrounded at the moment by other Light Furies. All female._

_That was the only reason she had not yet begun her latest attempt. More accurately, her Dam's latest attempt. There was no way she was getting up to that boulder without one of the alpha's females driving her away. Truly, she would prefer that if her Dam had not made it clear being driven off did not count as an attempt. It would be painful for no purpose._

_Then the alpha descended, leaving the group of females behind. Pearl sighed and stood. As much as she dreaded what might happen, she dreaded her Dam's anger and frustration more. At least this would not last an entire moon-cycle, like her Dam's ill temper did._

_That did not make this at all acceptable. But Pearl was too conditioned to do anything but try. "Wish me bad luck," she half-seriously implored her friend._

_"May you trip and fall into a pile of fish bones," her friend replied sadly._

_Pearl seriously considered that suggestion as she approached the more populated section of the valley. Sadly, it seemed there were no such piles handy._

_She passed several couples, Light Furies who were happily mated. They were a rarity in the pack, mostly because males were a rarity. Even rarer was a couple who looked happy at the moment. The yearly ceremony was approaching, and the only age group in the pack that was evenly split between male and female was the fledglings and hatchlings. Most of the couples had a son or two, and several came of age this year, as Pearl and Crystal would. Their parents had reason to worry._

_The alpha, a large light wing with a dark green tint overlaying his pure white scales, who went by the uninspired name of Claw, was making his rounds, walking amidst the field of boulders and greeting any Light Fury who crossed his path. Many did, seeking him out to speak with him. He was approaching a more deserted section of the valley, however, one covered in shadow, and therefore not favored._

_Pearl had once wondered, at a younger age, why Claw walked through there at all. She never saw anyone voluntarily go there. Now, she suspected this was why. Surely she could not be the first whose Dam was... persistent... enough to try this._

_No, hopefully she was the first. She would not wish this possible fate on anyone, even to feel less alone._

_Pearl steeled herself and caught up to Claw. He was much bigger than her, as she was not fully grown. She was not an adult, not quite yet. Maybe that would save her._

_Claw looked down just as she brushed his side, walking alongside him, closer than one would normally do. "You are... Pearl." He seemed to be recalling her name._

_"Yes." She let her tail brush his, and said what her Dam had told her to. "I will be at the ceremony this season-cycle." It sounded innocent, on the surface._

_Pearl's hopes sunk like a rock in the distant sea at the look on Claw's face. "Will you?" He glanced ahead of them, at the deserted and unwatched section of the valley. "Walk with me."_

_She very much wanted to say no, to trip into some magically-appearing pile of fish bones, to have been interrupted like last time, before she got this far. But her Dam's instructions had been clear, and she could not disobey. It just wasn't an option. "Yes, I will."_

_No one noticed them enter the shaded part of the valley, and they were quickly hidden by the rocks. No one noticed, except possibly for her Dam, who might have been watching. If she was, she certainly wasn't about to interfere._

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl jolted awake, and to her feet. It was the middle of the night. Why, of all her memories, did it have to be that one?

She settled back down, calming herself by degrees. It hurt to remember, to know her Dam had sent her to him like that, but then again, that had always been her Dam's plan. It was not a surprise. That made it no less painful. When she had returned later, her Dam had congratulated her... and immediately made plans to send her back soon, again before the coming-of-age ceremony. To make sure Claw remained 'aware' of her, her Dam had said.

Pearl had not been in a state of mind to complain, or do anything but nod and try not to cry at the very thought. That had come later when her Dam was not around when Crystal had nervously asked how it went. Then she had cried.

It was not entirely the act itself, though that was a horrible thing. It was that she had nothing better to expect in a few moon-cycles than to be claimed by Claw in public, and made one of his many females, to do with as he wished. For other fledglings becoming adults, it was not assured, and Claw could not make a claim until a full season-cycle had passed, but her Dam was probably going to circumvent that. It was not like Pearl had any prospects anyway, and most of the males would not survive the coming-of-age ceremony if she did.

That ceremony was a memory just as bad as the one she had just relived, if in a different way. Pearl tried not to think about it, but she knew that if she went back to sleep, she would probably dream about it anyway. After a few moments, she gave in and recalled that night voluntarily. Maybe if she did, she could get some actual sleep afterward.

O-O-O-O-O

_"Keep going." Pearl's Dam barked impatiently. "You want your scales smooth. Tonight is special!"_

_"No one else is smoothing their scales," Pearl noted, though she did as told, rubbing the side of her face against a smooth rock. She always did as told in the end, so there was no point in really resisting._

_"You are not like them." Pearl's Dam purred. "They have to worry about catching a male's attention, or being ignored by our alpha after a season-cycle. You have a place already. Tonight just makes it official. So you have to look good!"_

_Pearl would rather switch places with one of the other female dragons. Any of the other female dragon coming of age tonight, really. They didn't have that much of a chance to escape Claw, and most of them did not see him as such a terrible fate anyway, but they did have more chance than she did. None._

_Nevertheless, she made herself look good, as much as was possible. Sometimes she also cursed herself for being attractive. Maybe if her glint was mud-brown, and her name Bracken, this would not be an issue._

_She and her Dam made their way to one of the larger boulders. "You know how this goes. Do not mess it up." With those oh-so-comforting words, her Dam flew off to rejoin her Sire in the audience._

_Pearl cast a fleeting glance at her Sire, but he was already being lectured by her Dam. There was a reason he stayed away. She might have wished he could save her, but it was a sad fact that he was pretty much spineless and very unlikely to even speak back to her Dam, let alone disagree._

_That described pretty much every male in the pack, really. Barring the fledglings, of course. They would be taken care of on nights like tonight._

_Pearl glanced around. Crystal was nearby, as was Gold. There were four females and three males altogether this season-cycle, so the ceremony would be short._

_The crowd quieted, as Claw and his females arrived. They had one of the few caves to themselves, on the far side of the valley, but he was probably last to show on purpose, to keep everyone waiting for him._

_"Well, let us get started," Claw announced agreeably. "We have Gold, Granite, Bone, Lily, Crystal, Honey, and Pearl." He cast a glance at Pearl as he said her name._

_Pearl shivered. She knew that look and associated it with terrible things._

_"Tonight, all seven of these fledglings are officially adults!" Claw roared, and the rest of the pack roared with him. "And so we come to the question posed each year, to the entire pack." He took a step forward, growled dangerously, and said: "does anyone want my position?"_

_Silence, for a moment. Then one of the fledglings spoke up, the one named Bone. "I do."_

_Two light wings in the audience wilted. Those would be Bone's parents. Pearl felt vaguely sorry for them, if not Bone. They had not managed to convince their son that alive and subservient was better than dead._

_"Anyone else?" Claw did not look surprised when Granite joined Bone in challenging him. "Gold?"_

_Gold bowed his head. "No, sir."_

_"One has some sense." Claw lifted into the air. "Granite." The named fledgling followed him._

_Pearl bowed her head, silent. The outcome was not in question. Claw and the challenger would enter a special cave, and a few moments later Claw would leave, devoid of a single scratch. Later, the parents could retrieve whatever remained of their son's body. That was why they had so few males, and no confident ones, only submissive, spineless ones. Those were the only ones who survived._

_Claw returned a few moments later. "Bone." Bone followed him confidently as if he could do what no other fledgling could ever have done. Pearl often wondered why so many challenged Claw. It was a noble endeavor, to be sure, but why waste one's life?_

_Though, if females were allowed to challenge, she would in a heartbeat. It was better than what awaited her._

_Claw again returned, even quicker than before. He bowed his head. "And so our leadership is assured for another season-cycle." Then he looked up. "Now, to ensure loyalty."_

_Gold knew what was required of him. He approached and flattened himself to the ground submissively. "I swear to follow you and never fight you."_

_Claw placed a paw on Gold's head, pushing it to the ground entirely. "Yes, you do." After a few long moments, he released Gold, who fled back to his place._

_"Finally, there is a matter of the future." Claw stared at Crystal. "Name your choice."_

_Crystal sighed. "Gold." There was only one male left in their year, so she had no choice. She had probably hoped that one of the other males would not challenge. Granite, from the little Pearl had seen of the two recently._

_Claw stared at Lily. "Gold," she said confidently._

_Then it was Honey's turn. "Gold."_

_Claw paused, seemingly surprised. "Gold, you are quite popular," he noted in mock shock. There were a few nervous chuckles from the rest of the pack. Claw shook his head. "One pities the ones you do not choose, for they will have lost what they want most." The unspoken conclusion, that they would be his, did not need to be voiced. It was custom._

_Pearl's Dam spoke, startling Pearl. "I do not want my daughter's hopes raised for no reason," she said loudly. "Must she waste time on Gold?" That was almost an insult to Gold, but no one cared. It was clear what Pearl's Dam was really suggesting._

_Claw considered it, making a show of weighing the veiled suggestion. "I suppose she does not have to." He purred. "We can just let her into the alpha's circle now, and skip the wasted time."_

_Pearl knew it was coming. Of course, it was coming. But it still made her want to cry, to fly away. She couldn't. The pack would stop her. But she couldn't make herself confirm it either. That was too much. They might be taking her future away, but she just couldn't agree to it._

_"Pearl?" Claw asked her again. "Are you agreeable to this?"_

_Pearl sighed and very subtly nodded her head. She was not escaping. There had never been a chance of escape. It was just not something one did. One stayed with the pack. There was nothing else outside of the pack._

_Claw purred smugly. "Come, then, and I will show you to our caves." Pearl followed numbly._

O-O-O-O-O

That had been one of the worst moments of her life, or really one of the worst nights of her life, for it did not end there. She did not choose to remember what came next, what often came next in the following moon-cycles. There was no reason to torture herself.

One of the few saving graces was that she had not given him an egg, unlike most of the others he had taken. At first, that got her more attention, but after a while, it gained her some small measure of peace, as he lost interest. Not permanently, and not entirely, but enough.

Some few of the other dragons in the pack had helped her a little too. Lily came to mind, sometimes sharing fish for no real reason, and providing pain-soothing plants when Pearl asked for them. Small support, but it helped her stand the rest of the world.

Then Gold began courting her in his own way. It seemed he did still harbor ambitions of replacing Claw and was simply waiting until Claw died of natural causes. For some twisted reason, he preferred that which he was not supposed to have. In this case, that was Pearl.

Pearl did not choose to remember that either, for it was a time of bleakness. She did not want to be with Gold any more than Claw, but Gold was relentless, and she had to practically throw herself at Claw to get him to back off. Trapped between two equally horrible dragons, with no escape. Until the one night, she had fled Gold, accidentally flown out too far from the valley, and right over the No-scaled-not-prey that had caught them both.

Pearl turned over, lying on her side. That was all over. She had escaped her Dam's strange and pointless ambitions, escapes Gold's attention, and most importantly escaped Claw entirely. She could forget that part of her life. Moon-cycles in a cage with nothing to do but think had given her more than enough time to work through all of this, and she was done with it. She would not let it hurt her any more.

Remembering Gold did give her pause, however. He would have been the very definition of settling. She could have, at one point, probably gotten him to claim her. As Claw's claim to her was weak and not entirely settled, that might have worked. She had considered it.

She did, it seemed, know what settling for something only slightly better felt like. She knew that feeling. It was not what she was doing with Ember.

That was a comforting thought. Maybe she did understand herself a little better than she had assumed. This was not settling.

Pearl found that a far easier thought to stick with as she drifted back off to sleep. She did like Ember, maybe love. She didn't know what that felt like, but she knew it did not feel like how she had considered Gold and Claw, and that was enough.

**_Author's Note:_ As I said, a sucker-punch, because everyone's minds probably went straight to Ember at the mere mention of a dark surprise. I have noticed, in going back over all of this, that I employed quite a bit of misdirection with Gold. Right up until the moment Gold is brought up and then dismissed about halfway through the chapter, everything seems to point to him being the primary (or possibly secondary if we count Pearl's Dam) antagonist in Pearl's life, which you all now know is definitely not the case (especially given Gold is dead, and as far as Pearl knows Claw is still alive).**

**In case anyone is wondering about the Light Fury pack, Pearl's past aside from the snippets we've been shown, or anything else involving that mass of unanswered questions, feel free to ask, but the answers will very likely be 'that would spoil a future work or something in this story'.**

**Also, it was a total coincidence that both of my currently running stories ended up going into a character's traumatic backstory in the same week. Weird, but unintended.**


	15. Progress

Pearl had managed to drift back off to mercifully dreamless sleep after her realization, but it did not last. She did not know how much later she was woken, this time by another, but it could not have been that much later because the sun was not yet above the horizon.

Storm flicked her ears toward the sea. "Follow me. Now." Without waiting for a response, she lifted off and flew out.

Pearl had the sinking feeling Storm had already caught on. Maybe that last move towards Ember had been too obvious. She followed nonetheless.

Storm was silent for a few moments, as they left Ember's earshot. He was asleep, but she still waited that long. Then she spoke, her voice dangerous.

"You are not subtle. At all."

Pearl sighed. "Not my fault."

"He is not blind, I do not think." Storm shook her head. "Are you delusional?"

"Are you?" Pearl laughed bitterly. "This will not keep him alive, this quest for revenge. Either he'll die in the process or want to die again once he's done."

"And you think you are what he needs?" A bark of sarcastic laughter. "You are either entirely selfless or desperate."

That made Pearl mad. "You speak quite badly of your own brother, to call me desperate."

"He is no catch," Storm replied dismissively. "Older, scarred, still mourning his last mate, and his whole family to boot. What is there to want in that mess?" She seemed almost morbidly curious.

Pearl answered without thinking. "A good person."

"You can find those anywhere," Storm huffed dismissively. "He is not the only one."

"The only one I've ever met," Pearl retorted angrily. "Also, if they can be found anywhere, where's yours?"

Storm swerved, knocking Pearl sideways, hitting her with a wing-tip. "Shut up!" More calmly, she continued, "it is finding them in the right kind that is hard!" It appeared Pearl had hit a hidden nerve.

Pearl dropped in the air, creating some distance between herself and Storm. "And I have! So why do you care?"

"Did you even search?" Storm was yelling again. "You get captured and some crazy no-scale-not-prey busts you out immediately. Then he just happens to actually be an available male of a species close enough to your own. Even more, you think he needs you to survive!" She was ranting now. "You had what you want handed to you! I have been looking my entire adult life!" Then her voice dropped. "And I cannot even consider fighting you for him because I am related to him. He is not mine, and I have to keep looking."

"You get to look," Pearl replied, vaguely aware she was yelling right back at Storm. "At least you were allowed to look! Allowed to leave! Allowed to grow up first!" She became aware that she had said too much and shut her mouth. Hopefully-

Storm faltered in her flight and turned, passing Pearl in an attempt to meet her eyes mid-air. "What do you mean," she began slowly, "by that?"

Pearl shook her head. "Which part?" she asked bitterly. There was no point in keeping it secret now. If anything, maybe it would get Storm off of her back. She hadn't wanted to tell the female Fury, but now it seemed she was going to regardless.

Storm fell back into pace with Pearl, staring at her as they flew. "Allowed to grow up first." She growled. "That disturbs me on many levels. Explain."

"And if I don't?" Pearl was going to, but she felt no desire to obey an order from Storm.

"I will force you to." Storm bared her teeth.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Pearl replied, taking a small amount of comfort from how Storm recoiled at that. "Don't tell me what to do. Ask." She had spent far too long getting pushed around. She was not going to fall back into that.

A few moments of uneasy silence passed. They banked, circling the sea stack slowly at quite a distance. The sun was about to rise, but for the moment the world was still dark.

"Please tell me." Storm asked, her tone frustrated but defeated in this instance. "I cannot let that go unanswered."

"There's a reason I'm not going home," Pearl began. "It is not a good place, and while I am... wanted... there, it is not a kind of wanting I like."

Storm said nothing. Maybe she had realized the best way to ensure Pearl continued her explanation was to not risk making her mad.

"There is an alpha named Claw," Pearl continued, her voice stressed, "and he takes all unmated females for his own a year after they reach maturity. It is the way of the pack. As is him fighting to the death on the night they become adults any male who wants his position."

A glance to the side. Storm's face was incredulous, but she held her silence.

"My Dam was... forceful, and she had always wanted me to be one of his most favored." Probably because her Dam despised her Sire, and wanted her to be with the only dragon that still had a spine. No matter his other qualities, or that she would just be one of many. "That wanting did not involve waiting for me to be completely mature, or my own feelings on the matter." Her Dam knew what was best, but that was not best… she shut that line of thought down, not wanting to ponder it. Now was not the time.

A terribly ground-out snarl echoed through the air. Pearl did not look at Storm, knowing what she would see. "It is only by chance and another unwanted suitor that I was captured. Far too late to escape that entirely, but at least I am not spending the rest of my life there." She inhaled shakily. "So do not think that I have everything handed to me. Better to think now is the first time I get to make any choice for myself. At least you had your own freedom to search. I would trade pasts with you in a heartbeat. Better loving family passed on than what I have." That last bit was harsh, but it was true.

"But you accepted it." Storm sounded confused, and more than a little enraged. "Did you not fight, argue, refuse?"

Pearl laughed bitterly. "Would you, if it was pointless, if your own Dam would just hit you and send you back to try again? I couldn't even consider leaving, or saying no, or defying anyone. I wasn't raised to think that was an option."

"But it is." Storm sounded as if she didn't understand. "It always is."

"I am just now beginning to replace the bad habits I have," Pearl admitted. "Some of the new ones I wish to take on I am learning from you," which was true, "though I also think you take them too far," even truer. "At least you knew you could fight it."

That seemed to hit Storm just as hard. They flew in silence for a few minutes. The sun had broken the horizon, strands of light devoid of warmth in the cold reaching the fliers.

"I will not stand in your way," Storm began. "If this is really what you want. But you speak as if this is just to save him. Is that really your first consideration?" She sounded genuinely curious, and strangely quiet, no longer aggressive and loud.

"Well…" It kind of was, at that. "Yes."

"Then you need to stop. You are using yourself for another." Storm's voice was confused and a little offended, totally at odds with the fact that this was Pearl's choice. "Are you no more than that? It is offensive."

"He needs-"

"Nothing." Storm looked angry now, though it did not seem totally directed at Pearl. "He _needs_ nothing from you. And given he does not seem to notice what you are doing, I would also say he _wants_ nothing from you. Especially not you throwing yourself at him to 'save' him."

Pearl did not respond, momentarily stymied. Something about all of this was making Storm positively livid, and that didn't make sense… but she knew she was missing something. Storm was many things, and irrational at times might be one of them, but this did not feel like one of those times.

"Can you explain more?" she asked plaintively. "I know something is wrong, but I do not see it."

"Do not see it…" Storm calmed down a little, falling back to fly beside Pearl, staring at her levelly. "You would not. Your Dam raised you to be a male's plaything, from what I can tell. To be worth nothing. And now here you are, safely away but doing the same thing with a different male."

That really hurt. "I am not!"

"Yes," Storm snarled, "you _are_ , talking about him and not you. What of what you actually want? If he was fine, if that stupid ice-breathing mountain of a dragon had told you he was fine, would you be doing this?"

"Well…" Going this far, trying to draw him in, using her body to attract him… "Maybe not."

"Then you should not now. You are worth just as much as he is, and acting like you are not is insulting." Storm growled aimlessly. "I am not good at explaining things, and you were taught bad things, things so deeply ingrained you do not see them as bad. This is not going to work."

So deeply ingrained she did not see them… like all the things she now wanted to undo, her passivity and other negative traits. Were there more still? Things she could not see? That was disheartening.

"I want to understand," she whined plaintively. "Please don't give up on explaining."

"Oh, I am not going to," Storm reassured her gruffly. "If only because it offends me to see you acting like that."

They flew in silence for a moment.

"I do not know enough about how you were raised," Storm griped after a moment. "And I am not going to ask you."

Was that sensitivity? Strange, coming from Storm, though at this point Pearl was totally fine with not being forced to recall anything else from her past. Fighting it off when she had thought it was already defeated and gone was bad enough.

"But I will just assume it was all bad," Storm continued angrily. "If I say something you think is obvious, do me a favor and tell me. It will cut down how many things I can mess up."

"Okay…" She didn't know what Storm was planning on doing, but that sounded reasonable. As 'reasonable' was not how she would usually describe Storm, she did not object.

"First rule." Storm circled around Pearl, forcing her to slow down. "We are all the same, and we are all different."

"What?" That was entirely contradictory.

"Blame my Dam for coming up with that one," Storm responded, still circling, staring at Pearl. "I am just repeating her words. We are all different because we look, think, and act differently, but we are all the same because we are all worth the same."

That was a little clearer… "Worth?"

"Really? Worth, as in…" Storm shook her head. "Why is this so hard? You are just as valuable and important as anyone else, bar none. That massive alpha, me, Ember, anyone. What you are, the things beyond your control or just personal preference, make no difference."

"I know that," Pearl remarked.

"Do you? You do not act like you are just as good as anyone else, to use yourself as you are doing. Would you do the same if you were male and he female? Or If you were a powerful, massive and influential dragon like that ice-breathing one?"

"Well, yes." She did not see how that really mattered. "But you said that was wrong. It would still be wrong even then."

"Okay... Let me put it another way. If it were another dragon, would you make them do what you are doing?"

Making someone else flaunt themself in the hopes that a male would be attracted… she shivered, not liking that at all. It was _exactly_ what her Dam had done with her. "Never!"

"Exactly," Storm exhaled, clearly pleased with the vehement reaction she had provoked. "So do not do it to yourself, either."

That made sense, though she _despised_ the very idea that she was acting like her Dam. There was only one problem in that way of thinking. "But… I need to." If it was necessary… she wanted to find out if she actually liked him, and that would not be possible if he was dead.

"No, you do not." Storm sighed. "Put aside what you think might happen to him. You do not know him, and he does not know you. Fix that first before deciding if you like him."

"And if he dies before I can do that?" Pearl asked worriedly.

"Then that is bad luck," Storm replied briskly, "and you will be unattached, with nobody to consider, like me. I do not _need_ a male, but I would like the chance to meet someone, so I am quite unhappy with it," she summarized. "But at least I know what I am worth."

She did not like that possibility, but it was still better than her past, so she could stand that. "But I still don't want him to die."

"So figure out another way, a better one." Storm huffed.

"Like you forgiving him and convincing him he would be missed?" Pearl answered without thinking. "That could do it."

Storm flinched, glaring a little more harshly. "Something else."

That was a bit hypocritical.

"And, on the subject of doing better…" Storm was clearly trying to change the subject, "… I also think you should go back."

Pearl knew what Storm had to be referring to, despite the abrupt change in topics. That did not make it any less of a surprise. "Why?!" She did not want to go back to the pack. She was never going back there!

"Go back," Storm snarled, "and tear Claw limb from limb, kill all who try to take his place until there is either no one left or they realize that their system is wrong." She fired a plasma blast into the water. "I will go with you, and kill any who try to stop us."

That was an idea that had never occurred to Pearl. Just as leaving intentionally had never occurred to her, and just as the wrongness of her plans had eluded her. Maybe, though not like how Storm described... "Not like that. Some of them are good people just trying to live their lives-"

"While young dragons who are still really just fledglings are sent by their own Dams to be violated by the alpha." Storm flicked her ears dismissively. "There are no good dragons there, save for the fledglings and hatchlings. Any who stood aside and let that happen are not blameless."

"My case was not normal!" Pearl protested, sincerely hoping that was true even as she spoke, "most of the families there try to get their daughters paired off first and to convince their sons not to challenge Claw. They just want to keep their heads down. I don't think they can consider leaving." If she couldn't in such a terrible position, how could they?

"Then they deserve what they get there," Storm asserted. "Their children do not, which is the only reason I say we go there, aside from killing Claw."

"You would..?"

"If you tell me where this place is but do not come with me, I will go myself to kill that no-good-fish-rot-alpha, and then I will steal every young dragon away if another alpha is selected." Storm dove, grabbing a few fish from the water, ones that had been stunned or killed by her earlier blast. "I will let the parents believe I killed their children, and I will not care, because I will have gotten them away and to somewhere, anywhere better. I will return every year and steal new eggs from those idiots until someone catches me and kills me. And even then, I will be happy, knowing that they will not look for their children, who will grow up somewhere better." Storm snarled. "That is what I will do if you do not go back with me."

Pearl was shocked beyond words at that terrible plan, terrible not in quality, for it was clever and very likely to work if Storm was sneaky enough to pull it off, but terrible in the pain it would cause. So many parents would believe their children dead to a monstrous dark wing, a monster that had killed their alpha and that returned yearly and took more eggs...

"It will make me a monster, but I do not care." Storm returned with the fish, unintentionally echoing Pearl's thoughts as she did. "If you have a better plan let me know. Until you do, that is what I am planning on, once this whole ordeal with my idiot brother is over."

"You don't know where they are," Pearl weakly objected.

"I will find them if I have to give up everything to search for the rest of my life." Storm sounded entirely serious. "But I will not have to do that. Either you will go back, or you will tell me because either is better than letting it remain like that."

"You would cause so much pain..."

"If it saves one dragon from what you have told me you went through, I will consider it a fair trade. If it saves two, more than fair. But it would save dozens, scores. There is no comparison there." Storm turned back to the sea stack, fish in claw. "So, what will it be?"

Pearl, her mind spinning, followed Storm numbly. Storm wasn't wrong, but she wasn't right either... and she knew it, but would do it anyway. There was only one answer. "I'm going to come up with a better plan. A way to change their way of life, not a way to destroy it and steal their children."

"And if they do not want to change, we will do my plan," Storm finished with a dark purr.

"...Yes." And she would help if it came to that.

"You are trying to grow a backbone, it seems." Storm laughed. "I can respect that, at least a little, given you were not raised to have one."

"And you would do well to temper yours, you know." Pearl figured this was the best time to say that. "It gets you in trouble if I had to guess."

Storm wilted a little even as they landed on the sea stack. "Sometimes. Or causes problems I never get a chance to fix." With that, she moved to wake Ember.

But Storm stopped before she actually got to Ember. She turned, looking at Pearl with an odd expression. Then she stepped back. "You will get to know him without trying to tempt him." It was clear Storm was not just referring to the present moment, but to Pearl's whole approach.

"I will, but I could use some help," Pearl admitted. "I don't know how to do that."

Storm visibly ground her needle-like teeth together. "I wish to... _speak_... with your Dam as well." She with some difficulty reigned in the outward signs of her anger. "Besides, if what you have been doing is any indication, that is not a good way to go about it anyway, not with him." She nodded down at Ember. "He would not make a move even if you did attract him."

"So..?" That was discouraging, though she was not going to do that now. She had hoped to just get him to the point where he returned her affections through instinct so that his mind would follow.

"For one thing, talk to him," Storm admonished with a wry expression. "I do not know him, but you will need to. Find out what he likes, who he is, and let him get to know you." That was said quite sadly. "If nothing else, you two seem to have compatible pasts. Full of hurt."

"That is not a good thing," Pearl grumbled crossly.

"But at least he will understand. I am not a good one to be giving advice, but I got this from my Dam, who is, so it is still good." She gestured to Ember. "I will help you get close to him, but it is up to you to know how to break through his issues, and to decide if he is even worth that effort."

Pearl stepped forward. "Thank you." She definitely hadn't been expecting such a good outcome from anything related to Storm.

"I do not deserve to be thanked for this." Storm shook her head angrily. "I vented my frustration on someone who had a far more painful past to be frustrated about." There was pity in her voice.

Pity. That was what had changed. Storm pitied her. She wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that, but for the moment it would have to do.

"Still, thank you anyway." Pearl walked up to Ember's sleeping body, and after a moment licked him across the nose.

Ember shot up after a few moments of groggy stirring, pawing at his snout. "Why?" He sounded annoyed.

"Because we are up, and you are not." Storm laughed. "And we are not willing to wait for you to fish, so eat." She pushed two fish towards Ember.

"Very well," he said as he took the fish. Then he mock-glared at Pearl. "I will wake you in a more annoying way if you do that again."

"Nothing could be more annoying than being licked on the nose," Pearl retorted. "You would have to do that." Although if he did, maybe her previous efforts were having more of an effect than she had thought.

Ember recoiled. "Or not," he muttered. Okay, she still had quite a bit of work to do. At least he sounded embarrassed by the suggestion, as opposed to repulsed by the idea.

O-O-O-O-O

Storm held to her word, pulling Pearl and Ember into several conversations that Storm herself soon exited, or carefully directed, subtly letting anyone but herself do the talking.

Ember was for once talkative, but his mood was odd and dark. That seemed to be a result of why he was involved in the world again. Living solely for revenge might make one dark. But Pearl worked at bringing him out of that, and she did sometimes break through to something that seemed almost normal. Not that she had ever seen his normal.

By the time they set down that night, Ember was talking freely. The flow of words held up until it became clear they needed to sleep in order to carry on the next day. Pearl counted that day as a success.

Ember was not talkative at all the next day and was instead moody and silent. But that night, Pearl tried something different.

O-O-O-O-O

It began with Storm complaining that it was cold. Pearl might have believed the caustic Fury really was just complaining, except for how Storm proposed they solve it.

"I'm not sure this is necessary," Ember said, almost nervously. "It's not that cold."

Pearl considered anything that made Ember embarrassed a good thing for herself. When he stopped being embarrassed, that would be real progress. "It is cold. Why, don't you like sharing warmth?" She would have to thank Storm, who was going above and beyond anything Pearl would have guessed. Storm had arranged it so that Pearl and Ember were side by side with Storm on Pearl's other side. Not only was this far more close-quarters than Pearl would have been able to suggest herself, being between the two Furies also meant Pearl herself got the most benefit from the heat on either side of her.

The main goal though, clearly, was to get Pearl close to Ember. It seemed that even when Storm advised talking, she practiced some level of other encouragement in reality, though this felt fundamentally different, an almost innocent tease as opposed to deceptive manipulation. To further aid the cause, Storm quickly dropped off to sleep, effectively leaving them alone, with no real excuse for Ember to move.

Or so Pearl had assumed. "I'll be back... in a moment." Ember almost immediately excused himself, presumably to relieve himself out of sight.

So much for that. All was not lost though. Ember returned and hesitated.

Pearl slapped the ground where he had been lying with her tail. "Forget where you were?"

Ember lingered there, visibly wavering.

"Come on." Pearl sent Ember a disapproving look. "Or do you like being cold?"

Ember hurried over and sat back down... about two inches apart from her. Pearl inwardly sighed. Good enough, for the moment. Maybe she should take Storm's advice. Well, Storm's Dam's advice, anyway. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"About what?" Ember did not sound particularly interested.

"You've told us some of your past," Pearl began hesitantly. "But what about you? What do you like? Hate? That stuff."

Ember blinked slowly at her. "Does it matter?" He growled. "I hate Drago and Viggo. I like that we are going after them."

"Not what I meant." Pearl sighed. "Put that aside for a moment. What else?"

"There is nothing else, not anymore." Ember seemed to think about if he should leave it there. "A long time ago, I liked to play with my sons and to go flying with my mate, and to solve problems, to help people. Then we were attacked, and I lost ten years of time. Meanwhile, my other self lived, met my son, and discovered that he too liked to play and fly and help. Then we ran into a monster. Since then..." Ember sighed, closing his eyes. "It has all been fighting, spending time with family... or mourning them." He opened his eyes. "What about you?"

It felt like an escape from a difficult subject, but Pearl let him have it. "Well..." Actually, she had the same problem. Given her life, while there were a few things she enjoyed, she had always been more focused on other things not quite as positive. "Not much, actually. I like flying too. Especially very high." It was a way to escape, for a while, if no one could see her. "Hiding in plain sight, even when I wasn't supposed to."

Ember gave her a strange look. "What?"

It made sense he would not know. "When I heat my scales, they disappear."

Ember huffed. "It has been a very long time since I have seen your kind. I did know that once, though I only rarely saw it."

"You know more of my kind?" That was a surprise.

"I did, many years ago. They were wanderers, and so was I. We wandered in the same places for a time." Ember purred slightly. "It was good not to be alone for a while, though eventually we parted ways. I never saw them again."

Pearl didn't have anything to say to that. She thought for a while about what to say next, to continue the conversation... and then looked over to see Ember already asleep.

"That was fast," she grumbled. "Too bad you aren't awake to object..." With that, she scooted back over to him, pressing herself against his side. If he wanted space, he was not getting it. It really was cold. She fell asleep like that.

O-O-O-O-O

"Wake up, Pearl." Storm nudged Pearl's side. "I will wake Ember in a moment, and if you are asleep he might just slip out of this." Her voice was annoyed. "I thought you understood this was wrong."

Pearl opened her eyes, wondering what Storm was talking about. "Huh?"

"Or did you not do this on purpose? I find it hard to believe this was an accident."

Pearl took true notice of where she was, and what parts of her were not cold. She felt the skin under her scales heat up in embarrassment. How in the world had she worked her head under his front paws, and at the same time draped a wing over him? The only way they could be more entangled was if she had fallen asleep on top of him, or vice versa.

Now there was an image to get her moving. Pearl began to pull her head back and her wing.

Ember looked down, his eyes widening as he realized what was moving his paws and waking him up. "How?"

"I have no idea." That was pure truth. "Could you lift your paw please?" She would like to get out of this and pretend it never happened.

"You lifted it to get there..." Ember seemed to be considering it. "Why can you not now?"

"I can," Pearl grunted, "but you could make this easier."

"I suppose," and he lifted his paw. Pearl quickly pulled out and away, though she did not get up. She couldn't let him think the close contact bothered her, just that particular level of it. Even if she wasn't supposed to be luring him in, she would not go the other way and act as if he repulsed her.

Ember stood anyway. "We are close," he announced.

"So?" Storm cast him a frustrated glare. "We are not yet there." She leaped into the air. The other two followed.

But Ember was not wrong. By midday, an oddly familiar sight met their eyes, far below in the distance.

"Have we gone in a circle?" She knew they hadn't, but there was something about this place. It wasn't the ice nest, but it was a mountain of about the same shape, one with a large port built into the base and holes dotted across the mountainside. It felt oddly familiar, a strange feeling lingering in the air.

Ember growled. "Interesting landscaping. But this is the right place." They circled from a vast distance, only barely able to make out large details.

The front of the mountain had a port at its base, one that seemed almost dug into the rock. It was the only place ships could dock thanks to the steep bluffs and inhospitable gravel beaches In that one docking place, there was a massive system of docks and other such equipment. Drago's dark ship was there, central among a massive fleet of similar make.

"Not getting in that way," Ember remarked angrily. "He wouldn't be there anyway."

"Where are they?" Pearl knew some little of what she was seeing. "Where do they nest?"

"Inside the mountain," Ember growled, as they circled further around. "We must find another way in."

Once the backside of the mountain came into view Storm chuffed contentedly. "There are places there."

"Yes, there are." Ember laughed. "They do not expect us to come in through windows on the side of a sheer cliff, but it was foolish to put windows there to start with."

"So, do we attack now?" Storm seemed fine with that suggestion.

"No, we come back at night." Ember led them away, past the mountain. "We need to catch Drago inside, and he is more likely to be in there at night."

They flew for an hour or so and found an isolated little island, one with dense trees and little else. Ember set down there, and the others followed.

"So, what's the plan?" Pearl was very nervous, but this would be practice of a sort. Practice in doing what for her would be unthinkable. Attacking this place was just as unthinkable as Storm's plans for Claw and her nest had been. Pearl needed to learn how to consider these things. It was a blind spot she needed to correct.

"Plan?" Ember paced, weaving his way through the trees. "I find Drago and eviscerate him."

"And we..?"

"I was not aware you wanted to die," Ember remarked casually. "You do not enter that deathtrap." He glanced at Storm. "Either of you. Coming here is well and good, but that place is not somewhere any normal dragon can enter and expect to leave."

"Why not, you are-" Pearl began.

"Not normal," Ember finished quickly. "For every man I kill, I have another life to spare. With me, it will always be attrition, but they cannot win." His voice was very dark. "I could probably kill every living human in there on my own, but I only care about Drago and whoever gets in my way."

"Stupid." Storm interjected before Pearl could speak. "You cannot be killed, but you can be knocked out, captured, or restrained!"

"I cannot be restrained," Ember countered. "You have seen my flames."

"And we've seen them put you in a near-death sleep after a single fight!" Pearl did not want Ember to get himself killed here and now of all times. Never, but definitely not now.

"I will not give up," Ember asserted almost desperately. "You set me on this path, and now you want me to not follow through?" That was addressed at both of them, and there was a hint of desperation in his voice. They were threatening to tear down the only thing keeping him going.

"No, we want you to follow through and survive." Storm stood directly in Ember's path. "You are not going in there without a better plan, and you are not going in there without us being a real part of that plan."

"Fine!" Ember tore a chunk of bark out of a tree. "Then let's plan." He set it down and broke pieces until the scale-sized bark bit looked like the mountain from above.

O-O-O-O-O

Night fell. Two shapes flitted towards an ominous mountain in the dark. Pearl was camouflaged, making up the third member of their raiding party.

Or was it an assassination? That was it, really. They were only there to kill one person. So they were assassins. It would be good practice.

All of this would, really. Pearl had a brief flash of premonition. Maybe she would get a scar from this. A big, obvious one, one that would dissuade dragons like Claw.

But what if it dissuaded Ember too? No, that would not happen. He was riddled in scars, and that did not make him any less attractive in her eyes. But she had heard Claw praising flawless skin and scales before, so it was safe to say he would despise a scar. Furies in her pack didn't have scars to start with. That would be another thing to mark her as different when she returned with Storm.

Assuming she got a scar. She wouldn't try to because there was no way to know what would scar and what would kill. She would have to not get hurt, but if it happened... she wouldn't mind a scar or two.

That thought would make her Dam scream. Pearl wondered for the first time what the pack thought had happened. Her and Gold disappearing... together... and not coming back.

Oh, great. They must think she had run off with him. Also, since Gold was gone...

Pearl felt vaguely sick. The three females legitimately courting him would all go to Claw, not just two of them. Her departure had doomed one to the fate she escaped, though they would not think it so very bad.

But she was coming back, and she and Storm would do... something. She still needed an actual plan. Killing Claw would be a start, but what then? Maybe this would help her think of something.

Or maybe Ember could if she told him. He still did not know, and Storm would not tell. She should tell him, and yet...

She did not want to, not yet. She did not want to be pitied. It had won Storm to her side more effectively than Pearl would have imagined, but she did not want pity from Ember. Not for that. She did not want pity, and she was trying not to feel too much towards him either. Mourning alongside him, definitely, but not pitying him. He was strong and so it would be disrespectful. She wanted him to think the same of her before he found out.

Maybe this could help with that too. She could show that she was not always bound and helpless when it came to fights, not always the victim who needed to be saved. From what she could tell, while he had a soft spot for helping people, he also liked people who helped others and themselves when they could. Not those who always needed to be saved.

All speculation. Really, she just hoped they all made it out alive. That wasn't certain, though no matter what happened Ember had a pretty good chance of getting out alive... if not of surviving even more guilt.

It would probably destroy him utterly and completely if either she or Storm fell, though they were not as close to him as either of them could be. Storm was still caustic half the time, though not towards Pearl, and Pearl had yet to actually state her intentions towards Ember or get a feel for whether he could feel the same. Not that close, but close enough to kill him with their own demise.

The mountain was getting closer, dots of light on the side marking the openings Ember had called windows. The weak points, ones that were only weak to dragons.

That was a confusing point, one Pearl did not understand. Why would this monstrous No-scaled-not-prey alpha not protect against dragons? Did he think himself invincible, wearing the skin of a Night Fury, and having a Night Fury servant? One that was now grounded, no less.

Who knew. She did not want to know another monster of an alpha. The one was enough, far more than enough. But if she could, she would make a habit of taking them down or helping to do so. That was something her Dam would never approve of.

That was how she knew it was the right thing to do. If her Dam would forbid it, and Storm would do it, and Ember would go along with it, it was right. Those three checks all cleared here, so she knew it should be done.

The three Furies honed in on a central window, one they had picked out from above, and Pearl flew ahead. She knew her job.

The windowsill was large but only just big enough for her to squeeze through. The room on the other side was empty, if cramped, with a door on the far wall, secured to the rough-hewn rock walls.

Not entirely empty, actually. There was a male No-scaled-not-prey asleep on some odd pile of furs in the corner, a metal claw and hat nearby. A soldier, one who was not alert.

Pearl considered what to do with him. She wasn't sure she could kill him in cold blood, but he needed to go. She settled for hitting him in the head with her tail until she was sure he was knocked out, though he was still breathing well enough. His nose didn't look good, but that was an accident. She would get better with practice.

Pearl picked up a piece of shaped wood in her mouth and waved it out the window, signaling with it, as her body was still not visible. The infiltration had begun.


	16. Reveal

**_Author's Note:_ And now, when we are all ready for the infiltration...**

**Instead, we'll open the box, and find out whether that cat is alive or dead.**

Thorn woke to a pounding headache and an untemperable sense of panic. Whatever they had given her to keep her sedated had worn off, and she was feeling the pure fear being trapped in a cage like this caused. She had never been trapped before. It was a terrible feeling.

"Relax, Thorn." Herb purred soothingly from a nearby cage. "It will be okay. I am here, just out of reach. I am still here."

"And we are too," Spark added. "They kept us together, so-"

"Quiet!" Beryl tilted an ear toward several No-scaled-not-prey nearby. "This sounds important."

O-O-O-O-O

"Here is your payment, my friend." The sneer in Krogan's voice marked that lie even as he spoke it. A bag of heavy golden coins changed hands.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you," Ryker said, seemingly sincere. He glanced around. They were alone, save for the dragons around them. "Perhaps a little more?"

"What is Viggo trying to trick me with now?" Krogan scoffed, even as he made to leave the makeshift tent and summon his guards to cart the Furies away.

"Viggo cannot know of this." Ryker stepped to block Krogan. "And neither can Drago. This will be between you and me."

"I am listening," Krogan conceded, stepping back.

"I want the males," Ryker said bluntly. "You only need the female."

"And that is why Viggo sold them as a unit," Krogan agreed. "To force me to buy them all. Drago will find a use for them."

"Not if you didn't buy them." Ryker took out an only slightly smaller bag of gold. "I'll buy the three males back off of you, and you can pretend you only bought the female. I'll make them disappear, and no one, Viggo or Drago, will know any better, both thinking the other has them."

"What do you need them for?" Krogan seemed surprised, though it was hard to tell. "Your brother owns this island."

"And Drago owns your ships and your men," Ryker countered angrily. "You and me, we are pawns. I wish to change that, and I am sure you could use some gold of your own to do the same."

"Yes, I could." Krogan took the bag and looked inside. "This is more than sufficient for the Furies themselves. I will need to silence my men, at least the ones who know I bought all four."

"As if you needed money for that," Ryker scoffed. "Jus' toss 'em overboard and tell Drago they were plottin' mutiny."

Krogan nodded. "It was worth a shot. I have your silence." It was not a question.

"And I have yours." Ryker smiled. "As if either of us speaks, both are doomed."

"Until we are our own masters," Krogan finished.

"Until then," Ryker smirked. "I have _loyal_ men waiting to take the males." Loyal to Ryker specifically, not to Viggo.

"Summon them." Krogan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I must play this just right to ensure my men's silence until I can dispose of them. It will be easier to tell them the males are already being moved."

"Deal."

O-O-O-O-O

Thorn had a bad feeling as Beryl quickly translated. That feeling turned straight back into a panic when it was decided that she would be separated from her mate and grandsons. "Now what?!"

Herb's expression was strained, but he still managed a comforting hum. "We will find you if Ember does not beat us to it. Stay alive and hold onto hope, no matter what."

"Or you could find us if you escape first," Spark added. "Either way works."

That was some small comfort. "You stay alive too!" More No-scaled-not-prey entered the tent and covered the cages containing her family. "We will find each other."

"Of course." Herb and the others were taken out. The bald one who had bought them back quickly followed.

O-O-O-O-O

"Sir." Five of Krogan's personal guard entered the tent.

Krogan inwardly sighed. These men were loyal, but not entirely. They would be sacrificed. That would be acceptable, but it seemed Ryker did not know of his brother's planned attempt on Krogan's life. The first spy they had caught here had not been helpful, but the second had been a senior officer who had taken it upon himself to spy. Far more knowledgeable and less trained than anyone Viggo would intentionally send...

Unless that was a ploy. But Krogan had another way off of this island that Viggo did not know of, so the ploy would fail. When dealing with the younger Grimborne, it was best to enter with a dagger behind one's back, several auxiliary exit plans, and insurance. Krogan had all three, though the insurance had already been neutralized. It was entirely possible Ryker was indeed still working on his brother's behalf, but Krogan could spin it as a necessary ploy to leave with the all-important female, and Drago would accept that... not knowing that Krogan had kept the money with him, instead of sending it with the decoy.

Krogan hated the plans and deceit layered so thick only a madman could comprehend it, but when dealing with Viggo on Drago's behalf, it was necessary. Now, to set it all into motion.

"I have sent the males ahead to leave by a separate ship." Krogan made sure to glare at each of his men in turn. "We must fake taking all four on board the main ship so that none but us know they are not there. Not even the rest of the crew until we are out of sight of this island." It was easier to make a man accept a falsehood if the man felt he knew the truth, which in itself was part of the lie. Even easier if the man was charged with spreading the blatant falsehood to others.

"Yes, sir!" The men immediately took four empty cages and covered them, just like the occupied cages had been. They steered clear of the final Night Fury, who was glaring at them.

"Sir, what will be done with the female?" one of his better soldiers asked carefully.

"I will send her ahead by a smaller, faster ship. We will meet up three days from here. You should tell anyone who asks that I said to leave on schedule and that I am already aboard our main ship, but do not wish to be disturbed." That would ensure that Viggo thought Krogan dead along with all four Furies and that Ryker thought the money gone. It would also end all of his men who knew the four Furies were not on board the main ship when it was sunk.

Truly, it would tie up every loose end. Krogan left to go get some other men from his backup ship. They had two cages to load up. One with the Fury, and the other with him, both covered by tarps. It amused him to ride as a prisoner to freedom. Viggo was not infallible. He played impeccably... but only with the pieces he knew existed.

O-O-O-O-O

Thorn did not like her cage being covered. It made her feel even more trapped. This was not good. Then her cage began to move, to shake, and she knew she was being moved. To where? The No-scaled-not-prey had probably said, but she did not understand them the way Beryl and Ember did. There was nothing to be gained from her listening to them.

Maybe she should learn? No, she would not be prisoner long enough to do so. She clung to that thought. Surely her son or the others would find her. Ember had been so confident of finding Storm, moon-cycles gone, so it couldn't be that hard.

At some point, the ground changed from rock to wood and then began to sway beneath her cage, which had stopped moving. Thorn felt sick. She could fly with no issues, but this slow and steady shifting of what should be level ground was nauseating.

It never stopped. Thorn tried to think of the sky, of unmoving rocks, but it was impossible. She was trapped in a tiny cube that moved, and it was-

Her last meal came up and splattered on the floor of the cage. That made her feel a little better. The problem was, it stank. She did not want to look at half-digested fish either.

There was a single gap in the covering, too small to even see out of. She stuck her nose to the bars in its direction, clinging to the tiny stream of fresh, sea air coming through.

Time passed like that. She could not keep track of how long. It felt endless. At some point, the covering was pulled off.

Thorn shot a blast at the first No-scaled-not-prey she saw, but the blast clipped the bars and detonated in the cage. It felt like getting hit on the head with a rock. She swayed, her vision tripled for a few moments.

Of course, there were now three identical No-scaled-not-prey! That was just her-

Then her vision settled, and she saw one smug one where three had floated.

Lesson learned. The gap between the bars was not wide enough to shoot out of unless it was a tiny shot. Those could not kill, so there was no real point.

The No-scaled-not-prey laughed, and laughed even more when it noticed the bile on the floor of the cage. It tossed her a single fish and walked off, still laughing.

Vile thing. It wouldn't even try to clean her cage? Sure, she would have taken the chance to pull it in and tear it apart, but it seemed confident enough to try.

Then a sharp sting poked her back, and she realized that it wasn't that stupid. Of course, it would have her put to sleep first.

O-O-O-O-O

When Thorn woke up, she was in an actual cell set in the wooden contraption itself, and wearing a muzzle. Not to mention her tail, which seemed to be chained to the wall, and her wings, which were tied down. Her paws were not restrained totally, but the front and back paws on each side were connected by a chain, which prevented her from walking too fast or pawing at her muzzle. It was a neat, tidy system.

It began to drive her crazy the moment her full lack of mobility hit her. She did not like being constrained in any way. She had not before being attacked all those years ago, and being held down, helpless, at that time had only reinforced her fear of being trapped, stuck, restrained.

She could not howl in frustration. She could not stretch her wings. She could not even scratch her own back! There was a bucket of water in the corner, which she drained and then threw out between the bars. The wide bars, which did not matter because she could not fire. Not with this muzzle that barely let her open her mouth enough to eat. The single fish disappeared too, but that did not help her calm down.

Out. She had to get out. She could not paw at her muzzle, though she still wore her ankles raw trying, the metal manacles around them digging in and rubbing her scales raw. She could not bite the chain on her tail, all attempts ending in nothing but fruitless pain.

Fatigue set in quickly, though the throbbing in her jaw and paws hindered sleep. Eventually, she fell to despair for the day. Tomorrow, she would find a weak point and break these terrible bonds.

O-O-O-O-O

Tomorrow was no different. Nor was the day after. Or the next. Each day passed in a frenzy of panic and futile attempts to defeat iron with muscle and teeth. It never went well.

By the end of the seventh day, her paws were bleeding from under the manacle, and she had actually lost a tooth. This was not working, but she could not-

Another sting. She did not know why, and she did not care. It released her from the maddening restraints if only for the time she stayed unconscious. Sleep had not come the last few days, so any form was welcome.

O-O-O-O-O

That blissful freedom lasted... until about two seconds after she woke up. It appeared she was not going to be allowed to injure herself. The solution? Of course, it made sense to take a dragon who clearly could not stand being restrained... and wrap her so tightly in cloth that she could not move a muscle from head to tail.

That was her only coherent thought for a while. After a few hours of struggling mindlessly, she forced herself to actually evaluate her new situation.

The same cell. Still connected to the wall by a chain attached to her tail. This time, there was also a thick tarp wrapped under the larger manacle, and around her entire tail. Another, much thicker and larger tarp, was wrapped around her torso, completely pinning her wings and legs. It was so tight she could not even extend a claw, the cloth pressing against it too forcefully. Her claws were strong, but apparently, the muscles that moved them into position were not.

On the one paw, she thought, holding off the ever-present panic for a few more moments, at least there were fewer chains. On the other, not being able to stretch or move at all, and still wearing the muzzle was definitely not an improvement overall. She could have cried in frustration.

And she did, for there was nothing else to do. There was no way she could even work at getting free. Nothing could move enough to gain leverage. It was not physically painful at first, but it was constricting.

The pain came later when she began to cramp up. It turned out she could howl if the need was great enough. The darkness that came this time was a relief, and not inflicted from the outside. The pain had gotten too bad to handle.

O-O-O-O-O

Light, freedom... sort of. What was it this time? Her thoughts felt groggy, uncertain. What were those sounds?

"Dra...go...not...li...ke...th...is..."

Clearly, nothing she could understand. They were funny though, those sounds.

"...No...choi...ce...pan...ic...ing..."

What was going on? She really didn't know, but at least it was fun. She didn't feel worried at all, which was strange. At that, why had she not bothered opening her eyes?

Wait, she had. But she really couldn't make out much. Blurs, blobs. Fun, but not useful.

But who cared about useful? She tried to stand and chase a particularly dark blob. It seemed fun. For some reason, her body wasn't responding.

At least she could feel the breeze on her scales. That was something good, something she had missed. She could just lay here and feel that for a few days. No one would mind.

Darkness came. It must be night.

O-O-O-O-O

A pattern developed. Time left in the terrible cloth prison, and time let out... but so confused she couldn't do anything but sit and occasionally flick a wing. She got the impression, in the lucid moments, that the No-scaled-not-prey were doing something to cause the confusing times, and that the one in charge was not happy with it.

Personally, she was pretty sure the confusing times were the only things keeping her sane. She looked forward to them every time her muscles began to cramp up again in the confining cloth. It was definitely the only thing keeping her sane then.

It was very hard to keep track of how long that went on. All she really knew was that one day, when the darkness that always came after the pain grew unbearable receded, she was not happy, and she was back in a cage.

Thorn felt a very strange sadness at not being confused and happy. She missed it already. But this was good, wasn't it? She could move and think at the same time. A rarity.

She pushed away the disappointment and looked at herself. That was very depressing. Her muscles were smaller and weak, her body thinner. They had fed her, but not enough. She felt small and weak. That was not good.

She did not want to think about this. Why were they letting her think? Where was the blissful confusion?

A shaking and the cage was moving. It was covered, of course.

And then a terrible irony, a strange thing that should not be. The ground no longer moved... and that felt wrong. Why did that feel wrong?!

She didn't even bother trying to hold in the contents of her stomach. Small fish splattered on the side of the cage, along with stomach liquid, and slipped out under it.

There were faint cries of disgust, then frustration. Thorn chortled despite her spinning head and upset stomach. That was some small revenge. Maybe they would make her confused again. Hopefully.

But no. The movement continued, and it grew darker. She did not know where they were taking her, but then again she had not from the start, so that was not new.

And then another sting, more darkness. She was getting used to that.

O-O-O-O-O

A pounding headache. That was new. Thorn opened her eyes to see a stone room, one with no visible exits or entrances. Still trapped.

But not restrained? Not tied up or chained up or wrapped up so that she could not move? This was good. No, the room was big enough to actually walk around in. This was great. She still missed the blissful confusion, but this was a pretty good substitute.

The first thing she did was paw at her muzzle... only to find that it had been replaced by a metal version. This one she could not get off. It seemed she was not totally free if the stone room with no exits was any indication.

She prowled the edges, looking for weaknesses. There were none. She did locate the door, if only because it consisted of the only three cracks the entire stone room possessed. That was how she had been put in.

Looking up, there were tunnels going out of this chamber, small ones not even a Terror could get through. At least she wouldn't suffocate.

So there was no getting out at the moment and no blissful confusion. Thorn looked down at her skinny legs and lack of muscles sadly. She had wasted away. Still, she could start working to regain some strength.

The chamber was just big enough, about five of her length wide and long as well as high, that she could run in tight circles. It was better than nothing.

O-O-O-O-O

After a few hours, running got boring. It had gotten exhausting after a few minutes, with her new lack of stamina, but she had persisted until she dropped, regained some strength, and begun again. She was tired, in a good way for once. Fish and water had been let in through a hatch she had not seen inside the lines she assumed was the exit, so she was not hungry or thirsty.

It was something of an ironic horror, all in all, that the worst yet arrived when she felt, for the first time in who knew how long, at least momentarily content.

The lines widened as a section of the wall began to recede. Not the section she had been looking at. The entire wall on that side was being pulled into the rock, sliding slowly to reveal...

Thorn's mind went blank. Surely this was not real. It could not be. Storm had said she saw the corpse. But there he was, in defiance of proof, the one who had attacked her, standing in a cell similar to her own... now in the same cell as her.

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Too weak to fight back. This was even worse than the first time because she knew what was going to happen... and still could do nothing to fight it.

Thorn did not move as he approached. The sight of him had finally broken something inside of her. She whimpered wordlessly.

He stopped. Savoring the moment? He had before, an instant of stillness as she lay pinned-

"You smell familiar." His voice was deep.

Thorn choked back a sob. "I would think so, monster." Words were fine, words were not like last time, but she held no illusions that they meant anything else would be different.

"I have never seen you... before..." He stiffened. "I have never..."

Thorn laughed almost hysterically, still pressed against the opposite wall in fear. "You have done so much worse than look at me!"

The monster sat down and did not look at her. He seemed conflicted. Thorn did not believe that for a second.

At length, he spoke again. "And now it happens again. My alpha does not understand... again." He flicked his tail around, staring at it. "He rarely does, I see now."

Thorn held in a gasp. The tail was entirely devoid of tailfins, both sides missing. It was a thin, whiplike thing now, skinny and totally worthless for flight.

"He is my alpha, and this is not totally against instinct," the blue dragon continued, speaking to himself, "but I cannot do it. Death or pain take me, but I can't!" The Night Fury stood. "I can't." That sounded decisive.

Thorn said nothing, still not believing anything the monster said, horrifying injury or not.

The monster stared at her, his eyes soft. "I am Second. I was named that because my alpha is first among us, and my twin brother was Third, third among us until he left. I never saw him again."

"Liar." Thorn would not fall for that.

"He is dead, I am led to believe." Second, if that was his name, turned away from Thorn. "Your daughter, my niece, told me."

Thorn felt her heart drop. "You-" her voice was accusing.

"No. She and another escaped, and I did not before that either." Second shifted. "An orange Fury tore one of my tailfins off, promised it would regrow, and spared my life. My alpha took the other as punishment for failure."

Ember. "How long ago?"

"Less than half a moon-cycle." Second shook his head. "They are gone, and I would not expect them to come here. This place is death or worse for dragons. The new Second will soon be old enough to take them as soon as they come near." He sighed. "At that point, we will have no issues, because you and I will not be ourselves. Whatever the new Second wills, we will do. So I can afford to defy my alpha until then, at least in this."

That made no sense, but Thorn was beginning to believe, despite herself. "You are not him."

"I have never been with a female dragon, believe it or not," Second said wryly. "None of my own kind, anyway, and the other kinds do not really count, as nothing could come of that."

"Why in the world would you with one not of your kind or close?!" That was sick, twisted-

"Again, not my choice. My alpha is persistent, and he wants my offspring." Second shook his head. "He cannot hear us, and cannot hear me tell him that only our kind together produce anything. I had to prove it. Many times. Since then he has convinced himself that he only wants pure offspring anyway."

"Then your alpha deserves to rot." Thorn paced angrily, still keeping a safe distance from Second. "Kill it."

"No." Second replied as if it was obvious why not, and did not explain.

"Why?!"

"He is my alpha." Second glanced at his tail. "Though he is not always right, as I once believed, I still follow him. It is the way of things."

"If that tail is an example of what following him gets you," Thorn spat, "Then you follow him to your grave, alone and worthless."

"Maybe." Second shrugged. "I follow nonetheless, for I am loyal."

"Who cares?" Thorn did not feel threatened any more, though she could not say why. "Loyalty is worthless when it is to one like that."

Second huffed irritably. "You are annoying."

"And you are slow in the head!" Thorn retorted. "Stupid, to look at that tail and say 'this is right' like you do not know better!"

Second flicked his tail sadly. "Maybe."

"Leave." Thorn knew she was pushing her luck.

"I can't." Second curled up in the far corner. "My alpha has expectations, and I do not get to leave this cell until he sees an egg. I believe only you will be fed to make it a more pressing matter."

"You will starve."

"No," Second laughed wryly, "we will both be under the new Second's control before that happens. He is already beginning to test his power. It will not be very long." Second sighed. "When that happens, you and I will likely create many eggs and be powerless to object. Best to get used to that idea now."

Thorn was once again horrified. "What is this 'new Second' you speak of, that it can control us?"

"The alpha calls him a Bewilderbeast, though I don't know what that means." Second closed his eyes. "He got him as an egg and has raised him to obey him, just as he did me and my brother."

There was nothing Thorn could say to that. She could still see no way out, even looking at Second's side of the newly enlarged chamber. Escape just did not seem possible.

O-O-O-O-O

Time passed. Second really was trapped in there with Thorn. Every once in a while they were both knocked out, though there seemed to be no reason for that. Thorn could see no ways for the No-scaled-not-prey to see in, so maybe when they were knocked out their captors checked for an egg, along with cleaning the cell.

It began to become very clear that Second's alpha was growing impatient. Namely, the day Thorn woke up from their regularly scheduled knockout... to discover she was tied to the ground... upside-down. Totally vulnerable.

Second had been left unrestrained. He took in her state with nothing more than bemusement. "Does my alpha think that I cannot take you by force and that my weakness is the problem?"

"He does not seem to think very highly of you." Thorn was trying very hard not to panic, but it was not easy when she was stuck on her back in close quarters with one who looked like her attacker. This was very much like a nightmare. Despite her attempts to stay calm, she began to struggle.

"Or he thinks very highly of you, though I do not think that is it. Hold still," Second commanded, coming closer. He nipped at the leather bonds. "Good thing this isn't metal. I think I can take it off."

Thorn tried to remain still so that Second could get her out, but it was so very, very hard. She was panting in fear by the time he managed to slip one of the straps free. She began thrashing, tearing at the rest with the freedom one loose limb gave.

Second leaped back to avoid the frenzy. He took in Thorn's panicked face... and said nothing. It was clear he understood.

Thorn wanted to be sure it was crystal clear despite that. "I cannot stand being tied up."

Surprisingly, Second laughed. "I know. I heard the lengths they had to go to to keep you alive on the way here. Drago was not happy they ended up drugging you."

"Drugging?" Thorn didn't know what that meant. "You mean wrapping me in those horrible coverings?"

"No, I mean feeding you something that messed with your head." Second did not seem amused now. "It kills over time. You would not have lived much longer with that treatment."

Thorn suddenly felt cold. "It is that bad?"

"Slow poison that takes away control of your body and makes you happy as it does so." Second growled. "It definitely kills, but very slowly, except when one is given a lot of it. They just let it kill you for a while and then gave you the antidote. Once enough time passed, they did it again."

Poison... "I wanted more."

"It does that too. Never eat any if you find it. It will very likely kill you."

"How will I know?" Thorn had to be sure she wouldn't accidentally eat some. "Poison is supposed to smell wrong! I am not supposed to like it!" One detail stuck out at her. Her breath in those times had smelled like honey, sickly sweet. That just felt wrong.

"You will know." Second shifted his stance. "It is why you are so small and scrawny now. That, and not moving for a long time."

"I wanted more," Thorn repeated, horrified. "I still kind of do." She still missed that feeling.

"I am told it is at least a peaceful death," Second remarked neutrally. "Better than many I have seen."

"Horrible."

"Still better." Second laughed sadly. "One would hope for such an easy end."

O-O-O-O-O

Commotion. Thorn knew not how long they had been in there. It was long enough that she had begun sharing the food she was given with Second out of pity. He was still starving, but now she was too... and both of them slower than he alone had been before.

It didn't really matter. They had both begun to feel waves of strange power washing through the cell. Second said it was the new Second's abilities solidifying. It was a matter of days, if not hours until this Bewilderbeast could take them over.

Then it would all be over. Thorn wondered, in lucid moments not aggravated by the constant hunger, whether she would be aware anything had changed. Would it just feel as if she needed to do whatever the Bewilderbeast wanted, or would she truly want to do it? Would she be able to feel despair as she was forced to mate with Second? Hopefully not.

She heard something faint from outside the cell, a commotion. It did not matter. Still, this particular commotion was not normal. It sounded like fighting...

**_Author's Note:_ So, no one died. For those of you who may be nodding and thinking 'I never fell for it', I would like to inform you that I know how I would finish this story if they did all die. It was entirely reasonable, and I could have done it, to the point of plotting both courses out and considering them before truly choosing one, this one. (And I am beginning to consider writing out the other end in some form anyway, though I have too many projects as it is). I hope, for the majority of my readers, that your confidence in the survival of Beryl and company was eroded at least somewhat. That was what I needed to do. Stories like this suffer from the reassurance that nobody we like will die. I wanted to break that, even if in the end it held true in this instance. The knowledge that it was truly a coin-flip, even in the author's mind, is interesting, is it not?**


	17. Attempt

"We will find her." Herb's tone brooked no room for argument. Not that any of them would argue. Thorn was being taken from them, or more accurately they from her, thanks to the machinations of secondaries, Ryker and Krogan cutting a back-room deal.

Beryl growled in agreement. He couldn't see the others, as their cages were covered, but he could hear them. "We will, or Sire will." Ember had better go after Thorn first. She was alone. They were not. She needed to be rescued more than they did.

Beryl took the time they were being transported to think, as his Sire would have. As Hiccup would have, but Hiccup was Ember, and vice versa, so it was the same thing.

It was odd, at times, being the only one who saw just how much of a single person the two had become. No one else knew both of them before, and thus could not see the subtle blending as Beryl did. They only saw the person they had known before, unchanged. The small changes that spoke of the other set of memories went straight over their heads.

Spark, for instance, only saw Ember, their Sire. He did not notice the new sarcasm, the other little things. Everyone only saw Ember.

That was not bad, per se, but Beryl was very glad he saw both sides. Ember needed a friend, and it would have been sad for Hiccup bringing him back to cost Hiccup his best friend.

Beryl had never understood how thinking about something could be enough to cause a headache until this mind-twisting issue began. Now he knew very well the signs that he was giving himself one. It was not urgent at the moment, so he ignored it.

Ember his friend, and Ember his Sire. They made that work, though it was aided by the fact that Beryl was an adult, and not in need of being treated as a fledgling.

Back to what he had begun this line of thought in search of. What would Ember do here?

Well, to start with Ember probably knew No-scaled-not-prey traps, and he definitely knew metal. Beryl did not have that knowledge, so that was out. Using unnatural fire was also out, for obvious reasons.

So really, what would Hiccup, before any of this, do if he had been trapped in a dragon hunter cage like Beryl was?

The very idea of that version of his friend going against dragon hunters made Beryl shiver. Sure, he could probably do it, and do it well if they had backup, but it would definitely involve many life-threatening risks... not all of which would be strictly necessary.

Anyway... Beryl was once again stumped. Hiccup had knives, hands, small and thin limbs with agile ends. Beryl's paws were short and stocky...

But there was something else-

A thump, the cage tilting. Then it righted itself, and the ground swayed.

"What is this?" Spark's voice was frantic.

Beryl knew. "It's just a ship. They move like this." He had been trapped on one before, on the journey to the Queen's nest. Really, he had never actually been a passenger on one of these things willingly. Well, aside from that short raid on one a few weeks ago, but that had not been as a passenger so much as an attacker and for only a few minutes.

"It is making me feel sick," Herb noted.

"I guess it can do that." Beryl had not felt sick so much as bone-numbingly terrified in his own first trip. Now, he found the swaying unsettling but not nauseating. It was entirely likely that his family would not be so lucky.

More thumps, and their cages tilted unsettlingly as if sliding down a slope. Down into the ship?

Then Beryl felt a sharp pain in his back and turned to see an arrow lodged between two scales. Seriously, shouldn't they have less aggressive methods of knocking prisoners out? Why waste arrows?

O-O-O-O-O

When Beryl woke, he was trapped in a cell. On the bright side, he could see Spark across the hall, and a hint of Herb in the cell next to Spark. Even better, he was not restrained, save for the cell itself, which was obviously meant to hold him.

Herb stirred first. Beryl purred in greeting. "Good morning, and welcome to prison. The shorter our stay, the better."

Herb looked around, spotting Beryl. "This is at least a little better."

"Yeah, I was expecting way worse," Beryl admitted. "Last time I was a prisoner, I couldn't move at all." These dragon hunters were far more relaxed than Berk... but then again, they were in the business of keeping captives. It would be unwise to assume them stupid. They might be, but this was their job.

"Let us hope Thorn is similarly treated," Herb remarked worriedly. "She does not do well trapped. We saw that before we were separated."

"We'll get to her soon," Beryl repeated. "And the first step is getting out of here and into the air." It was a very good thing his tailfin had regrown months ago. Doing this while needing a human rider to let him be able to fly would be very tricky. They probably would have had to wait for Ember. Not that Beryl would mind that, but he would like to escape on his own for once.

"I do not like this," Spark groaned, finally awake. "The floor moves."

"We've already been over that, brother," Beryl remarked. "You will have to get used to it."

"If I must," Spark agreed. "Or you could get us out of here so that it is not an issue."

"Your faith is encouraging," Beryl quipped. Maybe he had picked up a habit or two from Hiccup and now Ember. He did not mind that. "Why am I in charge?"

"You know No-scaled-not-prey," was Herb's answer.

"That I do." Beryl wasn't sure if he should suggest Spark and Herb try to learn while they were here. It would be a good idea, but...

It almost felt like admitting that Spark and Herb would need to know, that they would not escape before knowing could become useful. Like admitting failure.

Or, he could look at it another way. Ember was part No-scaled-not-prey. Knowing how to understand him in any form would be valuable no matter how fast they got out of here.

With that decided, Beryl smirked. "You two should try and learn if you can."

Spark's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Ember can speak it, and only I know what he says when he does. It will be useful." Beryl directed that at Herb. "It could be helpful before then too if we are separated before we escape." Thorn had already been taken away. They could not assume they would be kept together.

"How does one learn?" Herb was all business. Spark nodded in agreement.

"Listen, and try to pick out patterns. Match the sounds they make with what they do. I will translate everything we hear for you too so that you know exactly what they say. That will make it much easier." Piecing together more than the rudimentary basics of the language on Berk had been a nightmare, lacking such easy translations. He and the senior Gronckle had spent weeks on it.

"How long does it take?" Spark flicked his ears impatiently.

"I have no idea," Beryl responded absently. "It depends on your dedication, how much they talk around us, and luck, I suppose." It was not like he could give an exact answer.

But now, as Spark absorbed that response, Beryl turned his attention back to escape. Ember might come to them first, but he had better not. Thorn needed him more. At the moment, Beryl, Spark, and Herb were on their own here.

So, Beryl had to get them out. He had no hands, no nimble fingers...

The thing that had bothered him before reappeared and made itself known, a fact he had forgotten. His tail was small and nimble, if not like a No-scaled-not-prey's fingers. He had fine control of it. Maybe he could use it to get them out.

Yes, maybe. He had the tool, but not the use. Beryl craned his neck, looking down both ends of the corridor his cell abutted. There were other dragons, common ones.

"You there!" Beryl called out to the closest dragon, a Nightmare. "Hello!"

The Nightmare turned to look in his direction. "Shut it."

"Shut it yourself," Beryl retorted. "Where are we going?"

"How should I know?" The Nightmare closed its eyes. "Stupid loud idiot."

"Okay," Beryl muttered. "He's no help." He himself could not physically see any other dragons. "Spark, are there any dragons within your sight on my side?"

Spark looked to one side, and then the other. "Two, but they are asleep."

"Later, then. Tell me when they wake up." So that possible line of information would need to wait.

Now, what had Ember told Beryl of locks? Those metal contraptions that held things together unless the right metal bit was put into them and turned. Was there a way to defeat them?

He vaguely recalled Ember speaking of 'picking' a lock with his knives. Picking it? Like picking it out of a group? And how did Ember's knives play into that?

Maybe... his claws were sharp like knives. Beryl examined the bars separating him from the corridor. There was a door that swung open, and where it should move there was a bulky bit of iron. That must be the lock.

But there was no hole, nowhere to put the metal thing. Beryl moved over to it. Maybe if he picked at it with a claw? That felt wrong, like it wouldn't do anything, but he did it anyway.

He felt quite silly, sitting on his hind legs and idly scratching a bit of metal with a single outstretched claw, but at least he was trying.

No, this made no sense. Nothing was happening. Beryl eyed the suspicious hunk of metal closely. From this side, it seemed a single block sitting on two parallel bars, holding them together.

Wait, of course. Beryl groaned at his own stupidity. Prisoners would never be intended to leave, so they would not need to be able to open the lock from this side. The important end was on the outside of the door.

With that realization, he turned his attention to the door across the corridor, Spark's door. He could see the same block of iron... and this one had an oddly-shaped hole in the center. That was where one put the key. Obviously.

But he had no key, and he could not reach either lock with his claws. His tail was not stiff and thin enough to do the job...

Beryl groaned as another realization hit him.

"Beryl?" Spark glanced at his brother.

"I just realized something." Beryl shook his head. "I might have been able to pick these locks if I still had my fake tailfin." That had been made of thin metal. It would have been able to fit into the locks.

"Lock? Pick? Fake tailfin?" Spark parroted the words cluelessly. "What?"

Beryl sighed. "I'll explain." He needed a key, it seemed. Maybe some No-scaled-not-prey could give him one, or be tricked into leaving one around...

O-O-O-O-O

The first opportunity arrived in the form of a bulky, none-too-bright hunter bearing food.

Beryl wasn't one to judge people, but...

"Nice dragon?" The hunter waved a fish in front of Spark's cage temptingly.

One did not taunt a dragon with explosive blasts when there was nothing stopping said dragon from blowing the taunter to smithereens. Not if one had any intelligence whatsoever.

Spark didn't even move. "What do I do?"

Beryl considered that. "Act tame and nice. If he gets close, pull him in and knock him out." He couldn't see a key yet, but Spark would be able to get at it if there was one.

"Do I have to?" Even as he complained, Spark obligingly warbled and sat on his back paws, scooting closer to the bars. Close enough to grab and yank if the chance came.

"Good dragon." The hunter sneered and threw the fish into the cage, staying far out of reach. "Stupid beast."

Spark didn't need to know what the hunter had said to catch the tone. "I will show you," he growled. Then he very deliberately poked at the fish.

"Eat, stupid." The hunter seemed confused.

Spark poked at the fish with a claw, and then abruptly turned and pointed at the hunter. Once it was clear the hunter was watching, Spark took the fish and very deliberately bit the head off.

Beryl chuckled as the hunter paled slightly. "That was cruel. Nice work." Such a blatant threat was certainly unnerving coming from a 'stupid beast' such as Spark. Still, it ruled this particular hunter out. He would be too paranoid now.

The hunter backed away from Spark, throwing fish into the other cages with far more haste. Beryl caught his fish in his mouth.

The hunter was going to be worthless anyway...

Beryl very deliberately caught the hapless hunter's eye, before decapitating his own fish in one deft motion.

The hunter broke and bolted for the exit.

Well, that was one person who would never take chances with them.

O-O-O-O-O

The next day, a familiar No-scaled-not-prey came down. It was the one who had bought them off of Krogan. He wore a speculative expression and stopped in front of Herb's cage.

"Yer a fighter, it seems." Ryker eyed Herb's dead eye, before turning to Beryl. "And you, with those scars." It seemed Ryker did not recognize Spark's scarred wings as results of injury. They did look more like natural mottling, silver streaks on an almost golden dragon. It was only if one looked closely that the true nature of the silver became clear.

Beryl snarled at Ryker, all the while translating for the benefit of Herb and Spark. "Let me out and see how much of one."

Ryker scoffed at Beryl's snarl. "Expensive animals. But some things can't be bought directly."

That didn't make much sense. He had bought them directly, had he not?

"Viggo was a fool to throw you away," Ryker muttered. "But he had no use for you. I do."

What was it, then? Beryl wanted out of this prison long before any use of Ryker's could come to fruition, but it would be good to know.

Speaking of good to know... Beryl still didn't see anything he could recognize as a key on Ryker. It had to be small and metal, but there was nothing hanging from his belt. Would he have it? He seemed to be in charge here.

Ryker was just talking to himself now, unaware that anyone was capable of understanding. "She'll want you, for sure. You are a much better bargaining chip than gold."

So now there was another, a she they were supposed to be given to in exchange for something. Beryl did not like being handed around like some dumb beast. He growled at Ryker.

Ryker growled right back, a pale imitation that made him sound like a sickly hatchling, had he known it. He seemed quite pleased with the noise had made.

"Have fun with the Collector, Furies." His voice was cruel and cold. "I hear she turns all the dragons she buys into rugs. Or maybe coats." With that, he left the hold.

Beryl did not feel quite so confident now, especially after translating that last threat.

"What is a rug or a coat?" Herb sounded like he did not expect the answer to be good.

"Not living things," was Beryl's only reply. His purpose was a bit more urgent now. He needed a key, to get the doors open, to get them all out of here.

Now he needed all of that, and he needed it before they were handed over to the Collector, whoever she was. Whenever that would be. He had a deadline, and one of uncertain duration.

Because things weren't hard enough yet. He still hadn't seen a single key. What was a time limit on top of that? Just a bit more pressure.

O-O-O-O-O

Days passed. Beryl did spot a key, once, but only in the context of the cell door being opened as he drifted off into unconsciousness. So now he knew what they looked like. No one had carried one openly. Maybe keys were not the answer.

But surely the ones who came to knock them out and clean their cells had keys? That thought stuck with Beryl. The issue was, he was never conscious to do anything when those particular No-scaled-not-prey came around.

Actually...

It was night, several days into their trip. If the No-scaled-not-prey held to their schedule, the next morning would involve such a cleaning.

"Herb, do they knock you out first?" Beryl needed to know if their cages were done at the same time.

"Yes, right before either of you." Herb shrugged his wings. "I assume, as neither of you have been approached when I am hit."

"I go next. You are last of us three," Spark added. He had not lost hope, though his enthusiasm was dulled by the time spent with nothing to do but brood.

"And they do us at around the same time," Beryl noted. "So maybe..." He thought he had a plan. "Spark, when they shoot you, put up as big a fuss as you can." He needed the ones going after him distracted.

"I will, but what..?" Spark did not finish the question. Maybe he did not want to know the plan, so he could put complete faith in Beryl. It might be comforting to know nothing other than that one's brother had a plan. The details weren't important.

"Should I do so as well?" Herb asked eagerly.

"Can't hurt," Beryl replied after a moment's thought. "I'm going to fake being out when their attention is divided by your distraction. Hopefully, they will forget that they have not yet shot me with their evil little arrows."

"That is a long shot." Herb did not object beyond that.

When the morning rolled around, Beryl was ready. He stood in the center of his small cell, making sure to look ready and alert. When the four hunters who always cleaned the cages worked their way to the Night Furies, one stood in front of each cage, a small bow at the ready.

Really, it was so inefficient. They should have had a better way to put their captives out every so often than shooting them. It left little wounds that hurt and healed slowly, for some reason.

Herb was hit first, and he roared, the sound fading as he lapsed into unconsciousness. Spark echoed that unusual show of willpower not a moment later.

Beryl saw a movement from the hunter in front of him and shifted ever so slightly. The arrow thudded into the deck right between his paws. A clear miss. That was not part of the plan. However, the shooter was distracted.

Beryl faked collapsing, hiding where the arrow had hit and closed his eyes as he willed his muscles to relax. The hunter might not have gotten a good look at where his shot actually ended up...

"Eh, musta got 'im in the paw," someone grunted. A metal clank, and then a creak.

The first part of the plan had worked. Beryl steeled himself. The second part was another misdirection, but a very violent and cruel one.

These men had chosen to take Night Furies captive. It was not his fault if that choice put them here. Beryl cracked an eyelid open to seen the one who had shot him reaching out, the key in his other hand.

Perfect. Without even opening his eyes, Beryl lunged and clamped his sharp teeth on the hunter's unoccupied hand, shuffling around as he did.

The pained screams were distracting, but Beryl managed to step on the key that the hunter had dropped even as he shook the man's arm, tearing it to shreds. The key was firmly grasped in his claws, inside his curled-up paw.

A heavy blow to his head sent Beryl reeling, and he let go, staggering over to a corner and collapsing for real. No need to drag this out. Several arrows hit him, and as he faded from the world he curled up around the key, sitting on it. As long as they didn't move him...

O-O-O-O-O

"...Beryl!" Spark's voice was frantic. "Are you awake yet?!"

Beryl groaned. his head hurt like someone had... well, someone actually had hit it, possibly with a hammer like he had been about to assume was pounding on the inside of his skull. "Somewhat."

"Are you okay?" Spark whined. "You do not look good."

"Look..?" That was about when the pain hit him. Had he been struck more than once? He certainly didn't know why his entire side would hurt, or why his wing was sending waves of agony down his back.

Beryl slowly took stock of his mysterious new injuries. Many bruises all along his back, a very nasty one on his head. His claws hurt like they too had been struck, and a few were broken. That was a minor issue that would resolve itself as his claws grew.

But his wings... Beryl whined as he drew his left wing in. It felt like it was broken right near the tip. "My wing is broken."

"Badly?" Herb did not sound optimistic.

"Not really?" Beryl flexed his wing, flapping lightly. It stung, but that part of his wing was not very important to flight. "I can still fly, more or less." It would be excruciating, but his injury was not debilitating.

"Why did they hurt you?!" Spark angrily paced in his small cell.

"I may have torn apart the arm of the one who shot at me," Beryl admitted sheepishly. "I do not believe there was much left of the arm by the time they got to me."

"Why?" Spark didn't sound at all disapproving.

"As a distraction." Beryl laboriously unclenched his paw, his muscles screaming as they unlocked. "I have a key." The one the hunter had dropped in agony, the one that he had stepped on and taken even as he mutilated the hunter in question. The whole point of that surprisingly painful endeavor.

"So..?"

"I might be able to open the cells." That was a big 'might', one he had not really thought through. At least now he could try.

"What time is it?" If it was night, he could begin. They sent no one down through the night. Prisoners only got water and food in the day.

"Almost sundown?" Spark warbled uncertainly. "It is hard to tell from the light coming in from above. It does not seem to change." There was a small hatch at the end of the corridor, the only place light came into the cells. Beryl couldn't even see it from his cell.

"Good enough." Beryl considered the small metal object he had gotten himself injured for. "This might be tricky."

His tail was agile, mobile, flexible. But it did not have a grip of any sort. There was no way to clench the key. Not very securely, anyway.

Beryl folded his tail, in the position that allowed for the best free-falls and dives. That might hold a key if he laid it between the fins. He unfolded the tail, swept it around to be easily reachable, and laboriously picked up the key in his claws. It was so small, which made all of this difficult. With excruciating slowness, Beryl positioned the key on his tail, right at the end of the base of his tail, with the strangely shaped edge pointing out. Then he clenched his tail, folding his fin over.

There was pressure there. Success. It would slip if he turned it the wrong way, but he did not need to. Beryl lifted his tail, keeping the key secure, and shuffled backward towards the cell bars.

His tail, with some very careful positioning, fit through the bars with no need to turn it sideways. Beryl backed up all the way to the bars until the small balance-flaps at the base of his tail pressed against the bars.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Beryl felt a poke at his tail, and the key almost dropped. He had gone too far!

"Don't touch it!" Beryl moved forward a bit. "Is it right in front of the metal box on the door?" Doing Spark's door would not involve contorting his tail around in a small space, and as such should be much easier to do.

"Move it to the left."

Beryl obliged.

"The other left."

Beryl growled and did so. "Now?"

"A bit up," Spark added. "Perfect."

Beryl craned his neck, looking for himself. The ridged edge of the key was pointed at the hole, but... the hole was a vertical slit, and the key made a horizontal one as it was, flat on his lower tailfin.

He very painstakingly turned his tail at an angle, holding on to the key as strongly as possible, which was not that strong. A single jolt and he would drop it.

At last, it was the right place and orientation. Beryl very slowly backed up, sliding the key into the lock. That was the hard part done.

He had almost no grip, but he did not need to do the rest. "Spark, turn it and don't let it get out of the lock."

Spark wedged a paw around and groped at the key sticking out of the lock. "Have I got it?"

Beryl stared at the paw a good three claw-lengths too high. "Lower."

What followed was an annoyingly slow game of directions. Spark did not seem to have a good sense of distances at this scale. But finally, Spark got a good grip and turned.

A soft click and a rusty squeak as the pale green metal bars that consisted of the door swung ajar.

"Well done!" Herb applauded, having watched the whole process, unable to help. "Do your brother next."

Spark practically pranced out into the corridor and easily took the key from the lock with his mouth, moving it over to Beryl's door. Turning the key was still awkward, but this time Spark could see what he was doing, shortening the time required considerably. Two short unlockings later, and the three Furies were free.

They had gotten out of the cells, and it was only a short climb to the deck and freedom. Beryl shook his wing, wincing even as he led the way to the hatch. It would hurt, but he could make it. He could-

Beryl popped his head out from under the closed hatch. There were a worrying amount of No-scaled-not-prey boots in his immediate view. Why were they all out on the deck right now?

"Hurry!" Spark pushed at Beryl's behind. "Someone is coming from the other way."

Beryl pushed up involuntarily, Spark's nudge overbalancing him. The hatch swung open, hitting the deck with a crash.

He saw many hunters and no sky. This ship had more than one level below deck. This was not the upper deck. The light Spark had judged as near sundown was just a few torches.

In his defense, he had not gotten to see the ship on the way in. How was he supposed to know that?

Someone must have been standing behind the hatch, because almost before the first yell had finished echoing, a wooden chair slammed into Beryl's head, right on top of his bruise from last time.

The darkness that came for him was mocking. So much for that brilliant escape attempt.

O-O-O-O-O

When Beryl woke up from that particularly embarrassing nap, it became quite clear that had been his only chance at getting out. He was tied up and muzzled. A glance over at Spark and Herb confirmed that they too were restrained. It seemed the hunters were taking no more chances.

It also seemed Ryker wanted to... gloat? That did not seem right. But the man stood there anyway, sneering.

"Never 'ad dragons smart enough to steal keys and unlock doors," Ryker commented dryly. "Now I'm starting to believe you also threatened Fraljas."

A hunter was shoved into the corridor from out of sight, the one Spark and Beryl had messed with. He stumbled to a stop in front of Ryker.

Ryker sneered at the hunter, unsheathing a sword as he did. "Who are you working for?" His voice was cold.

"Wha'?" The hunter seemed honestly confused. "You!"

"I did not tell you to let these dragons out." Ryker sneered at the hunter. "And I am not a fool enough to believe they really unlocked their own cells!"

"Bu-" The hunter's objections were cut off when Ryker kicked him in the stomach, a wheeze the last thing to escape him as he gasped for air.

"Question him," Ryker commanded to the two hunters who had approached and picked Fraljas up, carrying him away. "And get men down here to transfer these beasts to the cages. We're almost there." Ryker grinned unsettlingly at Beryl. "You'll be dealing with the Collector soon. She doesn't need you alive."

Beryl tried to snarl but found the best he could do was growl and glare at Ryker. These muzzles were too tight to even speak.

Ryker left the corridor, not even bothering to acknowledge Beryl's anger.

It seemed, Beryl reflected nervously, he had failed to get them out. A crushing wave of guilt washed over him as he realized there was a very real chance they would all die soon after the Collector got her hands on them, and that there was nothing he could do to stop it if they were to remain tied like this.

If they all died because his escape failed, it would be his fault.

At this point, Beryl really hoped Ember was coming for them first after all. Thorn probably wasn't in a life-threatening predicament at the moment. But Ember would trust Beryl to take care of his group if he could, and would of course go for Thorn.

It was all Beryl's own fault.


	18. Deceiving

All his fault. Beryl heard no arguments to that either, though he was unable to voice his conclusion. Spark and Herb would be unable to object even if he could say it. That didn't matter, because it was true. His escape attempt had failed, and now they were truly helpless, and out of time.   
He still struggled, writhing powerlessly as he was picked up and tossed into one of those movable cages, and did not stop until they secured his tail and muzzle to the sides of the cage itself, rendering even thrashing useless. No tarp was put up this time, which was a relief-   
Oh, never mind. Darkness descended upon the cage, and he was alone with his thoughts. Tied up, muzzled too tightly to speak. There was absolutely nothing he could do, in any way.   
Movement, voices. Indistinct, too distant and varied, speaking at the same time. They sounded tense.   
Then one he knew, Ryker. "I don't understand why you wanted to meet here."   
"Walls have ears," a female replied, her voice soft and almost dangerous. It made Beryl want to snarl, the threat in it directed at Ryker but still clear. "Open fields do not."   
"No, but sometimes they have dragons," Ryker countered. "But that is no issue." The tarp was swept off of Beryl's cage. "After capturing three of the most dangerous, there is nothing left to fear."   
Beryl took in the scene with more than a bit of worry. Many hunters, and soldiers of another kind, seemingly less armed against dragons in favor of armor and weapons more suited to fighting their own kind. There were about an equal number of each, hunter and soldier, less than two dozen in total.   
The island itself was flat and topped with long grass, but Beryl's attention drifted to the ship anchored off the coast on one side. It had no weapons, no bola-launchers or catapults, but was built sleek. He would compare it to a Nadder, as opposed to comparing the ships of hunters to Nightmares. Smaller and faster, but not defenseless.   
Then he saw Ryker, who stood between Beryl's cage and that of Spark, facing a tall woman shrouded in...   
Beryl bared his teeth, unable to effectively snarl. Light red Nadder scales, sewn into a cloak, a hood shading her face. This stranger wore dragon as a disguise. How many Nadders had died to provide that many scales? There was no skin, the scales overlapping each other and flexing as the cloak moved, offering a thousand sharp points on the outside. Like a Nadder's tail, but with scales and no spines.   
There was tension here between Ryker and the female and between their respective soldiers. That was no help. Even if they came to blows, one side would just take the cages as the prize. Both were equally bad.   
The female straightened imperceptibly at the sight of the Night Furies. "This is a surprise." She sounded interested.   
"Better than gold for you, I'd think," Ryker said smugly. "They came into my hands by chance."   
"Infinitely better," the woman breathed almost reverently. "I will purchase these from you."   
"As I thought." Ryker shrugged. "I do not truly need gold, but you have something else I need."   
The woman's face was hidden, making it hard to tell what she thought of that. "Such as?"   
"Collector," Ryker's voice turned as charismatic as the bald and scarred man could manage, "You are well known."   
"No, I am not," the female retorted, her voice light. "My name is known."   
"And not your identity." Ryker nodded. "A wise precaution. You have soldiers, ones that must be quite loyal, to not divulge your identity for gold."   
"No soldier of mine would sell that information willingly. They cannot, even if they wanted to," the Collector agreed, her tone dark.   
"I happen to need loyal soldiers." Ryker grimaced. "Loyal to me, or loyal to the one I borrow them from."   
"Your brother has many soldiers," the Collector noted neutrally.   
"That is why," Ryker gritted out. "It is time I went my own way, and my faithful few are not enough to get my assets off of his island in one trip. I need more manpower."   
"I suppose," the Collector mused, "that you think I can provide it?"   
Ryker gestured to the Night Furies. "I will give you a discount, a hefty one, for the loan of sufficient men."   
The Collector wavered. "Allow me to examine them," she commanded, "Starting with that one.” A slender hand rose, one finger pointing at Herb. "I must know what I am buying."   
Ryker nodded to the cage curiously. "What do you wish?"   
"It is restrained and muzzled. Open the cage and let me examine it." The Collector laughed quietly. "I am quite well versed in dragon anatomy," she said as she subtly flourished her barbaric cloak.   
"I suppose you are, at that." Ryker nodded to his men, two of whom unlocked Herb's cage.   
Beryl did not like this female, and he very much did not like her going over to Herb's cage, stepping in, and then running her hands across his face. It felt invasive, demeaning.   
Herb clearly felt the same, growling as the Collector continued her inspection. After a thorough look, she backed away, and the cage was closed.   
"Injured, but not recently." The Collector moved to Spark even as she spoke. "Still useful, with a mostly intact hide. Now, this one," and her voice sounded approving, "this one..."   
Spark shied away from her, his eyes fearful. Beryl realized that all of this might be even worse to any who did not understand what was being said. He ached to tell his brother she was just looking, that even this small thing was mostly harmless, though he could not speak for what would follow. Her remark about Herb's hide had sunk Beryl's last hopes. They would not escape this alive, save for some stroke of luck.   
She definitely liked what she saw with Spark. "Good, good. High quality, beautiful color. He is scarred, but that adds to the look in this case."   
Ryker frowned. "Scarred?"   
The Collector laughed haughtily. "That silver is not natural. One wonders how his wings ever healed from such a thorough shredding." Her voice was light, lighter than Beryl could understand. Did she truly find such a gruesome injury amusing? It almost sounded like relief.    
Then it was his turn. Beryl's cage was unlocked, and the Collector stepped into the small space.   
How he longed to slam her against the cage, to knock her around with his tail if nothing else. But his tail and muzzle were bound to opposite sides of the cage, in addition to his other bonds. He could do nothing but flinch, growl, and tense his muscles as the Collector ran cold hands across his neck.   
Her words, however, were innocent enough as she traced his many scars. From the bola ropes, from Vithvarandi, from a dozen different sources and stories, it felt. He had accumulated a substantial collection.   
"You have a history," she murmured in a soft tone as her fingers traced a large scar, one courtesy of Vithvarandi. "And it is not over," she concluded, something dark entering her voice.   
Her hand was on the bruise on his head. Beryl wasn't sure if it could be seen, but he definitely felt it, throbbing beneath his scales at even this slight pressure. Then her hand shifted, trailing lightly along his body, headed to his wings as if drawn by the throbbing break at the tip of his left wing. How had she even noticed that?   
"Savages," she breathed, her fingers probing the injury. It did not hurt, though if she pushed in the wrong place, Beryl was sure it would be agony. That seemed to be the end of her examination, as she left and the door was closed and locked again.   
Beryl had to fight an odd feeling. Sorrow. It had been a long time since he had interacted with any No-scale-not-prey on even that level of neutrality, save for Ember, who did not count. She was not a friend, was examining him for all the worst reasons, as one would examine a fish before eating it, but he did not feel threatened as she almost tenderly probed his wing. In that, she was no different than any No-scale-not-prey who was investigating an injury and blessed with a light touch.   
Maybe she had slipped him some dragon nip. That would explain why he did not want to tear her to shreds anymore. He still despised what she stood for. That cloak was great proof that she was not gentle, despite her attempts to appear as such.   
"Scarred, but that is fine," she mused out loud.   
"Can scarred hides make good cloaks?" Ryker asked, surprised. "The craftsmen Viggo employs insist otherwise."   
"Well, not cloaks," the Collector amended. "But there's plenty that can be made with the unscarred portions of his hide." She quickly changed the subject. "How much for the three of them?"   
"That depends." Ryker smiled spreading his arms to indicate the cages. "I'll throw in the black one if you lend me the men."   
"And if I don't?" The Collector did not sound inclined to do that.   
"You can still buy the other two," Ryker smirked. "But as for the black one, I'll leave him to the man he crippled yesterday, and have myself a Night Fury cloak of my own." Ryker shook his head in mock regret. "As much as I hate to deprive you of such a 'beautiful animal', as you say."   
"What are your terms for the men, out of curiosity?" The Collector took a step forward, her eyes still hidden in the shadow of the cloak.   
"A hundred men, for three months," Ryker declared confidently. He crossed his arms. "No less."   
"It would take me time to assemble such a force from my holdings," the Collector replied. "When should they arrive?"   
Ryker grinned, the broad expression looking quite out of place on his face. "A month from now, here?"   
"Consider it done," the Collector declared, sticking out a hand for Ryker to shake, which he did.   
"The black one delivered upon arrival of those men, of course." Ryker added.   
That made the Collector hesitate. "I want it now, along with the other two."   
"No." Ryker stood firm. "I am not stupid enough to pay you ahead of time."   
"You need me," the Collector warned, "and as an added inducement, I would leave half of these soldiers I brought with me, as insurance."   
Beryl noted that the soldiers did not seem happy with that, though none objected. Tensions were rising. Most of the men on either side were glaring at the other party. Hands drifted towards hilts.   
"Five men, for a Night Fury." Ryker shook his head. "No."   
"I do not believe," the Collector said in a dangerous voice, "that I am asking."   
Now the tension was obvious to all involved. A fight would break out at any moment, the way things were going.   
"You will not take them by force," Ryker blustered, his hand going to the large sword at his hip. "We are equally matched, and you need men to ever leave here. You won't have enough if you waste them on this."   
The Collector laughed. "The same applies to you," and as she said that she drew two bags from under her cloak, throwing them at Ryker’s feet. "I now consider all three mine, as I will deliver the soldiers as promised. Do not try to take _ my _ property by force."   
Beryl wasn't sure why, but he was suddenly rooting for the Collector, if only because she was strong-arming Ryker. Sure, she wanted him as some sort of cloak, but Ryker did too. There didn't seem to be a difference between the two of them. Maybe, if Beryl had any assurance that Ryker would not do the same to Spark and Herb, but he did not. Death at Ryker's hand, or the Collector's. There were no stakes here, not for him. So, he backed the Collector in his mind, for no reason whatsoever.   
"Don't push your luck," Ryker growled.   
"Or maybe luck is what we need to settle this," the Collector announced. "More accurately, skill, if you have any."   
"What are you suggesting?" Ryker drew his sword. "I do not play games."   
"But do you spar?" The Collector drew something else from beneath her cloak and wrapped a cloth around her face, still obscured by the hood. "No weapon, winner gets their way. And I will hold to the deal, regardless of the outcome. We are fighting for whether I get paid now or then, though if I win you do not get the insurance of my five men."   
That was... not a smart move. Beryl did not see how the Collector thought she would win. Ryker was large, battle-hardened, and brutal, to the point where he would beat any lesser fighter through pure strength if nothing else.

"You've got to be kidding," Ryker drawled, putting his sword back in its sheath. "What are the conditions of defeat?" He was smiling now, a dangerous, predatory smile.   
"First blood," the Collector announced.   
"In hand to hand combat?" He sounded dubious.   
Why was that odd? Claws would... oh, wait, No-scale-not-prey didn't have claws. Maybe it was harder for them. But didn't they have those odd false claws on their fingers, the ones that weren't good for anything?   
"Are you not in the habit of drawing blood in hand to hand combat?" The Collector's tone was mocking. She discarded the terrible cloak, tossing it to one of her soldiers. "Maybe you are not trying hard enough."   
Under the cloak, she was garbed in all black leather, her eyes a brilliant green framed by a red scarf, which covered the rest of her face. She stood at the ready, hands open and empty.   
"We'll see." Ryker unbuckled his sheath and set it on the ground. "No one interfere!"   
"Agreed," the Collector yelled for the benefit of her soldiers. "You accept the terms?" she asked mildly.   
"On my honor." Ryker stepped forward, stopping in front of the Collector.   
"Anything out of bounds here," the Collector asked idly, her eyes straying from Ryker, "or does anything go?"   
"Anything goes." Ryker's fist swung out towards the Collector, only to hit nothing but air.   
"Good." With that, the Collector deftly pivoted to the side, avoiding another arcing strike, and kicked out at Ryker.   
Ryker paused a moment, his face turning a shade of red Beryl had only rarely seen on Ember. "You... fight... dirty." His legs seemed to be slightly crossed now, and he made no attempt to attack for a moment.   
"You agreed that I could," the Collector retorted, hands up but not yet balled into fists. "Your mistake."   
"Yours!" Ryker yelled, charging at the woman. He tackled her, slamming her to the ground, though the long grass probably made that a tolerably soft landing.   
Beryl wasn't in a good position to see the struggle, but he managed to crane his head and get a view. Ryker was on top-   
No, no he was not. Somehow the Collector had wormed her way onto his side, and now his back. Her legs wrapped around...   
How was that working? Beryl had never seen the like. Ryker was panting, hitting ineffectually at the legs choking him, even as the Collector leisurely sat there on his back, seemingly unconcerned.   
"First... blood..." Ryker panted, his face now turning purple.   
"Oh, yes, you are correct," she agreed, and drew a nail across the back of his bald head, a line of red following it. "I'm used to suffocating or just knocking out my enemies." With that, she held her chokehold for a long moment, before leaping off and landing a short distance away.   
Ryker, to his credit, wasted no time in standing, though he must be out of breath after that. He glared at the Collector, who stood at the ready once more.   
"On your honor," she reminded him sternly. "Or is the word of Ryker Grimborn worthless?"   
"Take it!" Ryker slammed his hands onto the hilt of his sword, drawing it and gesturing angrily even as he picked it and the sheath up off the ground. "And if I don't get my men, I will hunt you down."   
"I am sure of that." The Collector casually donned her cloak. "Return here in a month."   
Beryl wasn't sure how he felt now, as the Collector's soldiers carted his cage off, along with Herb and Spark. He tried not to think about their imminent demise, though that was hard.   
His thoughts turned to something stupid and insignificant. The Collector was a skinny No-scale-not-prey, a rarity. She fought differently, too, strangling like a serpent instead of hitting. It was a fighting style that suited her form. Why had Hiccup, skinny as he was, not done the same? It made sense, for one to fight with their strengths. Then again, how would Hiccup have known? It certainly was nothing like what Beryl had ever seen any other Viking do.   
No good. His mind turned back to their oncoming doom. Would she take them somewhere to kill them, or just do it on the ship? Did it really matter anyway?   
He strained at the ropes and metal muzzle, but it did no good. They had not loosened at all, though the Collector had shifted a few in her inspection. He could not move, he could not shoot, he couldn't even talk. There was nothing left, nothing to exploit.   
Well, almost nothing. Feeling like a complete idiot, Beryl whined and flinched at every jolt of the cage as it was moved onto the ship. Maybe, if she noticed... she had seemed to dislike the injury already. It was a very long shot, to hope the one who wanted him turned into a coat cared about a minor injury, but he was reduced to grasping at such long shots, so he tried anyway. It helped that the break did hurt, if not bad enough to cause the pitiful whining he was affecting, nor the consistent flinching and pained eyes.   
How he had been reduced, from a dangerous Night Fury to a whimpering wreck, play-acting or not. If it got even one of them out of here it would be worth it, but that was not a likely scenario.   
Especially as he would rather die here to ensure Spark and Herb escaped if he got himself loose. It was his fault their first attempt had failed, although he still wasn't sure how he could have done anything differently.   
They were left on the deck, the smaller, faster ship having no area below deck big enough for their cages. That was fine by Beryl. The sight of the sky, cloudy and overcast as it was, was better than old wood and stuffy enclosed spaces.   
He did not let up with his whining, maintaining a steady pitch despite the lack of motion and jolting. Spark began to cast him worried glances, though there was nothing any of them could do.   
Beryl responded to Spark's glances by projecting an unamused look for a moment, until Spark got the message. He was faking.   
"Ugh, can someone shut it up?" One of the soldiers gave up pretending to guard the cages, as worthless an exercise as that was, given the total incapacity of the prisoners to even move, let alone escape. "And why did you buy them? That wasn't what you told us was going down."   
The Collector, who had been gazing out to sea, turned to face the recalcitrant one quickly, her voice stern. "That was before Ryker pulled an impossibility out of his ship. You were paid to come along, do as told, and ask no questions, as well as answering none. Your gold is the same no matter what I do, as you will be paid when we reach port."   
"If you've got any gold left," the soldier muttered. "Some things aren't worth buying in my opinion. Whiny dragons, however legendary," he kicked ineffectually at Beryl's cage. 

"Whiny," the Collector muttered, approaching Beryl's cage. "This is a long trip. They need to be watered."   
None of the soldiers were volunteering. They all found immediate issues that needed attention, suddenly all occupied in seemingly vital tasks.   
Strangely, the Collector did not call any of them to heel. Instead she fetched the water barrel herself, rolling it over.   
Or maybe not so strange. Ryker had been sure her men were loyal, but she was just paying these for the trip? Maybe she didn't want to risk loyal followers in a meeting with Ryker. She had been quite agreeable to leaving some of these men as insurance. That made sense if they were just... what had Ember called similarly temporary allies made so with gold? Hired claws? Not quite. Hired muscle. That was it. All muscles and little brain, he had said.   
Ember. If there was ever a time for him to show up out of the blue, now was a good one. But Beryl couldn't expect that. Thus, he kept his whining up.   
The Collector poured water into his mouth using a metal cup, seemingly unwilling to remove the muzzle. That was nice, as he had not gotten water in a while, but it was not what he needed. He cast a glance back at his wings, or as close to it as he could manage. Surely she would get the message... and maybe loosen a few ropes in the process of treating it? Not likely at all, but a possibility.   
"Why would I fix it?" Yes, she knew his problem. "I don't need you whole, I just need your skin intact." That was said almost too loudly and too callously. Something felt off.   
Maybe she was solidifying her image as ruthless to keep these hired soldiers in line. They certainly shied away from her gaze now, or at least the feeling of her gaze from that barbaric cloak and hood.   
Beryl was finding being rendered mute by an overly tight muzzle extremely frustrating. He wished to speak, to insult this woman, to comfort his brother, to apologize to the Sire of his Sire for his failings. But none of that could be said. So, he settling for cutting the whine off abruptly and glaring at her.   
The Collector blinked rapidly as if trying to understand what had changed, looking for those changes. Then she smiled, a genuine expression of joy. She leaned in close, mocking the pure danger he represented, and whispered in his ear.   
"You are smart, dark one. Keep up the act of stupidity. These men don't need to know." She glanced at the soldiers conspiratorially. "They're not the brightest, but they will tell tales of Night Furies to their village. Best to leave them with little to tell."   
He responded to that with a derisive snort. A snort that may have intentionally shot a small amount of mucus onto that barbaric cloak. Perfectly done. She hadn't even noticed. Small things.   
O-O-O-O-O   
They reached the island an hour or so before sunset. The Collector did not disembark, instead handing each man a not insubstantial amount of gold as he left. She seemed to have an endless supply, taken from somewhere below deck in preparation for this parting. One man only remained, and he helped her steer her ship out to sea, a good distance from the island.   
"You may take the rowboat," the Collector gestured to the small rowboat hanging off the side of the ship, ready to go, "and the rest of your pay."   
"Ye jus' gonna sit here?" the soldier looked skeptically at the deserted ship. "Nothin' out here."   
"I'm being picked up," she replied, pressing the gold into his hand. "Go." There was danger in her tone, and he quickly departed.   
The Collector watched him row away. Once he was a good distance towards the island on the horizon, she laughed, a genuine sound of relief, and shed her cloak, dropping it to the deck absent-mindedly.   
"Oh, I was worried about that one. He looked ready to argue." She chuckled, glancing at Beryl as if he was an agreeable fellow conspirator. "Gold smooths paths and changes minds, but having too much makes one a target."   
Beryl rolled his eyes. What was she playing at?   
"My friends are coming soon, don't worry." The Collector approached Beryl, opening his cage. "I can do something about your wing now. I couldn't risk stories of the Collector having a soft spot for the dragons she murders." There was a wry tone in her voice, and Beryl was rapidly becoming confused. What was with this sudden change of personality? It was as if she had dropped that physical cloak, and in the process dropped a mannerism that had appeared natural, revealing something subtly different.   
Not that different though, as she still left him restrained while she wrapped his wing-edge in bandages and straightened the bone, which hurt, though it was necessary. The process was efficient and practiced, no wasted motion and no unnecessary pain. Confusing, all in all. Beryl didn't think Ember could have done it any better, or any more comfortably.   
"There." The Collector said, patting his head as if he was a willing patient to be soothed. "I would let you loose, but you might attack."   
Yeah, right.   
"So you're going to have to wait until my friends get here." With that, she moved over to give water to Herb, leaving Beryl's cage door open. Not that it mattered. He was still quite effectively restrained.   
"Poor thing," she said sadly, looking into Herb's dead eye as she gave him water. "How did that happen?"   
Beryl was beginning to doubt the Collector's sanity. How could she sound so sad at the mention of an old injury, when she planned to kill them for their hides?   
"Oh, don't growl at me," she sighed. "I'd take the muzzle off, but you might bite my hands off. Best proof of my true nature gets here before I try that."   
Yup, she was insane. She crooned at Spark as if he was a fledgling when she got to him, and pet his ears. Truly insane.   
The sun set, and night wrapped itself across the world, casting the deck of the small ship into darkness, lit only by the moon, which shone fitfully through the clouds.   
A thump, out of Beryl's range of sight. But the Collector was right in front of him. What in the world had that been? She didn't seem alarmed, moving out of sight.   
Growls, reverberating sounds. There were other dragons! Beryl's mind spun. Had another ship with more captives shown up, and that was what he was hearing? No, the growls sounded too close.   
Then a No-scale-not-prey stepped back in front of his cage. It was the Collector, but she no longer wore that cloth on her face. Her eyes were the same sparkling green, and her hair a brown that fell straight to her back. Her expression was soft.   
And then, to Beryl's confusion, a small green Nightmare stepped into view.   
It spoke. "Relax, dark wings that fly the night sky. She," and at that, it nudged the Collector, "is one of us. A dragon in spirit, if not body."   
Beryl's mind immediately went to Ember at that, but Ember was unique. No, such an explanation more likely meant that the Collector was...   
Like Hiccup. Like all of Berk had ended up. A friend of dragons.   
Suddenly, everything Beryl had not understood made sense, and the entire encounter between her and Ryker was seen in a new light. A friend putting on an act, not an insane woman with odd habits and a double-sided personality.   
Beryl let his eyes soften and nodded wordlessly, still unable to speak. It was not entirely certain that this was the truth, but he was unsure of any better proof than an unrestrained, unbroken dragon vouching for her.   
The Collector carefully removed his muzzle, smiling at him as he yawned widely, stretching his jaws.   
"Black one, you are unique," she began, holding out a hand for Beryl to smell. "So am I." Then she glanced at the other cages, where Herb and Spark watched on in shock. "I'm more unique than you, actually, being the only one of my particular kind."   
"Not really, there's a whole island of nice No-scale-not-prey," Beryl remarked casually, knowing she couldn't hear-   
The Collector's mouth dropped open. "What?!"   
"Huh?" She could hear and understand him?! How in the world had this No-scaled-not-prey managed that? He would have to ask. He wouldn’t believe it if she hadn’t so obviously been shocked by what he said.   
"Where?!" At that, the Collector moved to untie Beryl's other bonds, asking questions all the while. "Were you raised there? How many are there on that island? Are they at war with the hunters?"   
Beryl bolted from the cage the moment she had untied enough of his bonds for him to snap the rest with increased pressure, carrying her with him, as she had been working on the ropes around his wings. She laughed as he carefully shrugged her off of his back and began cutting through Spark's bonds, able to get at them because the cage doors were all open.   
"Get Herb and Spark out of these muzzles. Then we can talk," Beryl remarked, vaguely noticing the four Monstrous Nightmares perched on the back of the ship.    
The woman nodded agreeably, moving to Herb.   
At that, Beryl recalled that his companions would not understand all of this. "Brother, Sire of my Sire, she is a friend. Do not hurt her." He knew neither could respond just yet, but they could hear.   
"Spark and Herb, huh?" The woman laughed giddily. "Is it a thing of Night Furies, to have names? Other dragons do not."   
"Yes. I am Beryl."   
"Well, Beryl, I am Valka." Valka smiled at Herb as she tossed the muzzle aside. "The one who just rescued all three of you."

****  
  



	19. Campaigning

**_Author's Note:_ Such modest ambitions, all in all, foiled nonetheless. Sorry this one's so late, I had even less chance to access wifi than I'd anticipated. That shouldn't be a problem going forward, but I can't promise anything. Next chapter will drop on Thursday, two days from now, to make up for it (and because I'm 100% not going to be able to drop it Saturday as I would prefer). Make your predictions quickly!**

**(Also, to those who follow Living Anonymously, sorry again, I need to take an off week. Not having any connection also wreaked havoc on the beta-reading process, and I'd rather not forge ahead without that, so to speak. Next chapter will be up sometime next week. And that's with or without beta reading, as I actually don't know yet.)**

A dark ship covered in dragons and one No-scaled-not-prey. A No-scaled-not-prey who somehow understood their language. Rescue by the one who had bought them from Ryker. Things were suddenly looking up.

"Well, Beryl, I am Valka." Valka smiled at Herb as she tossed the muzzle aside. "The one who just rescued all three of you."

Herb immediately went to stand beside Beryl, glancing suspiciously at the Nightmares in passing. "What is going on?"

"Basically," Beryl replied quietly, watching Valka get the muzzle off of Spark, "she tricked our captors and bought us to free us while keeping up a deceptive appearance."

"She is one of us," a Nightmare butted in. "Our alpha trusts her, and she leads us into battle!" He thrust his chest out proudly.

"So you understand her?" Beryl would not think it of such a young dragon, one who looked as if he had been an adult for only a pawful of seasons.

"No, not at all," the Nightmare happily admitted. "But she speaks our language too! She just does not have her staff right now."

That made no sense. A No-scaled-not-prey that could speak the complex systematic language of roars, growls, and warbles, but only with a certain object?

Well, Beryl would have believed it of Hiccup in a second, if his friend had ever found a need to make something that allowed that. It was not impossible. Just something new.

Spark, it seemed, was not so hesitant about Valka, though he had not heard her spoken words and understood. He licked her across the face as soon as she got the muzzle off, before darting over to stand by Beryl and Herb.

Valka turned to face the three Night Furies, a smile on her face. "Someone's enthusiastic."

"She smells like Sire," Spark warbled curiously to Beryl. "Why is that?"

Valka's face froze. "Odd..." She shook her head. "You three are the only male Night Furies I've ever seen."

"You've seen a female?" Beryl inquired. "When?"

"Recently, from afar," Valka admitted sadly. "I was there personally, but I could not stop Krogan from buying her, and I was not allowed to go after them."

"Grey and blue, right?" Beryl shook his head sadly. "Storm."

"You know her?" Valka had approached absently, standing in front of the Furies. "Was she your..." Valka looked around. "I'm going to guess sister?"

"Nope, close. Our Sire's sister. She's why we're out here." With that, everyone seemed to remember who else was missing.

"Thorn," Herb growled. "We must find both of them if Ember has not already."

"And who is Thorn? Or Ember," Valka asked

"Ember is my Sire, and Thorn is his," Beryl nodded to Herb, "mate and the Dam of my Sire. She was captured with us, but Krogan did not sell her to Ryker as he did us."

Valka's face fell. "Another female Fury. Why?" She shook her head. "That points to Drago having a male, but I have never seen it. I am not allowed to openly engage Drago's ships."

"Not allowed?" Spark seemed surprised by that once Beryl had translated. "Who orders you around?" He warbled curiously.

Valka smiled. "The alpha does set a few rules so that I do not 'fly my Wing into ruin through recklessness.' He is not often wrong in those rules."

"Oh," Spark looked down. "So you will not help us?"

"Why would she help us?" Beryl glanced at his brother. "This is not her fight, though we are thankful," he said to Valka, "for your rescue."

"This is my fight, actually," Valka corrected Beryl. "I fight any who hurt or capture dragons, and free as many as I can. Two female Night Furies imprisoned by Drago are pretty much my fight."

"Plus she smells like Sire, so of course she will help," Spark added happily. "Somehow, she is family."

Beryl glanced askance at his brother. "Spark, are you sure?" There was pretty much no way that was true.

"Smell her yourself!" Spark pointed at Valka indignantly with his ear. Valka looked down at herself.

"Go ahead?" Valka offered with a tentative smile.

"If it will put a rest to this," Beryl sighed. Spark was probably mistaking some common No-scaled-not-prey's scent as matching Ember's No-scaled-not-prey form. He had smelled her only moments ago himself, though he had not actually been paying attention. With that in mind, Beryl stuck his nose close to Valka's chest and inhaled.

Yes, all common scents, quite a bit of dragon from close association, same as Ember, but also...

Odd...

Beryl inhaled deeper. No, Spark was right. That was definitely the scent of one closely related to Ember. "Huh."

"Well?" Valka sounded as if she was doubting it as much as Beryl had a moment ago.

"He's right," Beryl admitted, hearing a victorious purr from his brother as he did. "Who are you again?" In his mind, he hastily ran through all of the Berkians he knew, but that wasn't right, she hadn't known of Berk.

"Valka." She sighed. "That is all, now. But I have never even met a male Night Fury, as I said."

"What about No-scaled-not-prey?" Beryl was remembering something... "did you ever have a mate?"

"Once." She shook her head. "A long time ago. He is better off without me."

Beryl snarled, putting two and two together. "No, I don't think so. He and your son would have preferred you to return if they had even known you were still alive all of this time." A distant memory, of Hiccup explaining that his Dam had been carried off long ago...

"How can you possibly know I had a son?" Valka's expression was more worried than surprised. "And no, they did not need a dragon-loving Viking around in the middle of a war. I would have gotten them both killed." That was said frankly.

"Hiccup was pretty good at getting into danger anyway," Beryl wryly mused, knowing that name would catch Valka even more off guard. "And as he is also a dragon-loving Viking," and dragon, though that was going to be harder to explain, "I think he would not have minded."

Valka absently sat down, looking at nothing in particular. "You mean to tell me, that after all these years, he still took after me?" She was clearly shocked by that.

"Not after you, as you were not there. He took after himself, and did what he saw as right." Beryl almost wished he still had his false tailfin, as proof. "So you are related to us."

"How?" Valka was staring at him, quite oddly. "He is human."

"One could say I consider him a brother," Beryl hedged, not wanting to open that massive issue at the moment, "and Herb sees him as a son, Spark sees him as a Sire of sorts." That should cover it for the moment. From the looks on Herb and Spark's faces, they understood what Beryl was doing, so they would play along. "He is family."

"Oh." Valka stood, smiling sadly. "And how did Stoick take that, of all things, from his heir?" Her voice was wry.

"Well enough, by the end." The end, specifically, because he was no longer alive. More bad news. Beryl did not like being the one to deliver all of this news, no matter how little Valka might deserve to feel hurt by the death of one she had abandoned so long ago. "He passed on less than a season-cycle ago."

"Oh, Stoick." Valka sighed, looking out to sea now. "In battle?"

Killed by Vithvarandi... "Probably. It was a bit hard to tell."

"So Hiccup is chief..." Valka seemed to be putting two and two together. "Which means Berk is the island of friendly humans, right? I would never have thought it of them."

"You are right in one, wrong in the other. Hiccup is not chief, but Berk is dragon friendly." How would he explain that Hiccup had to leave, as Vikings were not at all tolerant of black magic? "He had other responsibilities that prevented him from taking Stoick's place."

"So where is he now?" Valka looked around.

An idea occurred to Beryl, a tricky play on words that wasn't even a lie. "He and Ember are close, kindred spirits. They were searching for news of Storm when we were captured. I think they went after Thorn, but we can't know for sure." An easy solution, to just refer to Ember and Hiccup as separate entities for now.

"A rider of dragons," Valka mused. "Family to Night Furies. He does take after me. What does he look like?"

"Skinny, brown hair, green eyes," Beryl replied with a toothless grin. "Leather armor, too, though his is not black."

"Oh, this?" Valka looked down. "I switched to this after taking down the Collector."

"Wait, aren't you the Collector?" Beryl had assumed it was a clever front.

"I am now," Valka stressed, her face cold. "After we took her operation down. She did not survive the fall of her home."

Beryl suspected from the tone of her voice that Valka herself had made sure of that. "Did the original Collector make dragon-skin cloaks?"

"No, she just told people she did," Valka answered angrily. "She kept dragons in captivity, for no reason but to have them. Clipped wings, roaming a small island, unable to leave as they were forever barred from the sky. Not hunted, just left to waste away, mocked by their small amount of freedom."

"Terrible," Beryl shuddered. "It is good that you rid the world of such a person." The idea of being forever torn from the sky was not new to him, but it was still terrible. Being trapped and left on an island and unable to leave by that, even more so.

"And she left a known identity with mysterious motives behind," Valka replied, her mood lifting slightly. She kicked the dragon-scale cloak she had discarded. "And a known look."

"Where did you get the gold?" It was Beryl's experience that gold did not come easily in large quantities, seeing the mere handful Hiccup had been given for those pelts a while back. The amount Valka had would be many, many pelts worth.

"On one hand," and Valka held up her left hand, "dragons raiding and sinking hunter ships. On the other," she raised her right hand, "the Collector buying dragons." Her left hand tilted as if pouring something into the right. "Plundered gold goes to freeing dragons who would be too heavily guarded to free by force, and to maintaining this connection to the hunters."

Herb grunted when Beryl had relayed that. "Clever, if I understand correctly."

"You do," Beryl agreed, "and it is clever." Another thing Valka and Ember had in common.

"Wingleader," A Nightmare interjected respectfully, "we should go soon." He nodded to the other three Nightmares. "We are ready to depart."

Valka nodded deliberately. "Yes, we should." Then she made a sign as if reaching for something. The Nightmare seemed to understand it.

"What was that?" Beryl did not know that sign.

"It means I need my staff so that I can speak to him later," Valka replied absently, moving to Beryl's injured wing. "You should not be flying on this for a few days."

"I will not stay here," Beryl objected.

"And we will not leave him," Spark added once he understood the issue. Herb nodded in agreement.

"Let one of my Nightmares carry you then." Valka said with a smile.

He didn't like that idea. A dragon should fly on his own power. "I'd rather not."

"Do it, Beryl," Herb said sternly. "If you are hurt, there is no shame in getting help."

Shame. That reminded Beryl that he owed Herb and Spark a big apology. "Yes, Sire of my Sire," he agreed quietly, still thinking on that. "Which of you is willing to carry me?" That was addressed at the Nightmares.

The largest one, a deep maroon in color, bowed his neck. "I can if you need it. The flight to our camp is not far, but it is strenuous over these unsteady winds." The other Nightmares growled in agreement.

Beryl privately felt they were making a big deal of wind, which was never an issue for the adept fliers Night Furies were, but they were larger and would be more sensitive to that which affected their flight. "Thank you."

And so, Beryl took his first ride on another dragon's back. It was an experience he had no desire to ever repeat. Flying while not flying felt wrong in a way that he could not shake, and only the twinging pain in his wing reminded him that he could not simply spread his wings and drift off, to move forward under his own power.

He was distracted, in part, by the spectacle Valka made as they flew away, abandoning the ship to whatever fate awaited it, empty of Valka's remaining gold and anything besides three open cages. She, after securing the bags by winding them together and between a Nightmare's back spines, began to visit with all four of the dragons, easily hopping from one to the next midair. It was quite the daring spectacle, a dark No-scaled-not-prey daring to brave the sky between dragons, leaping silently from one to the next.

Valka, in this way, did not ride any one dragon in the group, instead almost seeming to travel with them. It felt oddly fair-minded, as if she did it to project that specific idea.

He asked her about it when she visited his Nightmare.

"Oh, this?" Valka laughed, her hair streaming in the wind. "My best friend is not here, and I would not have him think I would ride another except by necessity. He is second in command on this trip and needed to stay behind to watch the others. This way none of the Nightmares can taunt him about my picking them on the ride back." She frowned. "They like to tease him, and all the dragons of the nest like me, so he believes if they say I chose one of them."

"He sounds jealous," Beryl remarked.

"I am all he has," Valka quickly replied, "so it is his way. There are no other Stormcutters here, and he is alone. If it were not for me, totally alone, I would think."

Beryl was forcefully reminded of how he had acted on Berk after the dragons had integrated with the village. Really, had he been any different? Overprotective, quick to stop any dragon who gave off the appearance of trying to take Hiccup...

No, he had done the same, and he knew that worry. He was not one to judge the Stormcutter Valka spoke of in any way but leniently. "I understand that feeling all too well."

Valka nodded. "I am amazed to hear of, what, six Night Furies total? You three, the two females we are going to go after, and the one with Hiccup."

"We are rare, but my family has a habit of finding each other eventually," Beryl agreed. They had run across Spark, had they not, by pure luck? He was sure that one day soon they would all, from Storm to Ember, be together in one place. They were all headed the same place, in one way or another.

O-O-O-O-O

Beryl hopped off of the Nightmare's back almost before the Nightmare fully landed, eager to forget he had ever been forced to hitch a ride with another dragon. To take his mind off of that humiliating experience, he took in the camp.

It was a camp of dragons, not No-scaled-not-prey, of course. The four Nightmares were the largest, save for an oddly-shaped dragon Beryl thought might be the Stormcutter by the way it rushed to Valka. There were no Gronckles or Terrors, no slow dragons, the bulk of the force consisting of Nadders and Nightmares, big ones, along with metallic dragons Beryl had never seen before. The three main kinds of dragon had about six representatives each, all in all, bringing the forces of Valka and the Stormcutter to eighteen total, not counting the odd pair in charge.

And not counting the three Furies in their midst now either. Spark and Herb made their way through the mingling throng to Beryl, having landed a bit further from the center of the camp.

"I have never seen those," Spark remarked, pointing with his ears at the metallic dragons.

"I have," Herb supplied. "Their tears are poisonous, their fire white-hot, and their tails sharp. Cutters, some call them. Good fighters."

"Cool," Spark barked happily. "Hi!" He trotted over to some of the aforementioned dragons and stuck up a conversation.

Herb watched in amusement. "You are the younger brother?" He asked Beryl.

"They tell me so," Beryl replied lightly. "I am the less optimistic, to be sure."

"A mistake many besides me make, I think, to assume optimism implies lack of experience," Herb mused.

"But usually that is correct," a new voice added. Beryl turned to see the one he took to be the Stormcutter. "It is hard to remain optimistic when one has seen too much."

"He's seen plenty," Beryl countered, nodding at Spark, "but he remains as he began. It is not a lack of experience."

"Not that much." The Stormcutter snorted derisively.

"His Sire and Dam slaughtered in front of him, his brother apparently abandoning him, for season-cycles on end," Beryl countered. "Thinking himself alone in the world for a very long time." Spark really had no right to be naive, not after all he had gone through. It had to be a more experienced brand of optimism in the case of the golden Fury. "He has seen much."

That elicited a sad croon from the Stormcutter. "I apologize. He has indeed felt more pain than any should."

Spark was playing some sort of game with the Cutters now, one that involved contorting one's tail as fast as possible, by the looks. Somehow he was participating despite having a completely different kind of tail. The Cutters seemed to like him.

"He should be careful," Valka remarked, coming up to lay a hand on the Stormcutter's neck, watching Spark. "Those tails are sharp, he could lose a tailfin."

Beryl winced. "That would be bad, but at least they grow back."

"They do?" Valka stared at Beryl. "Have you ever seen it?"

"Seen it? I've lost a fin entirely," Beryl laughed, pulling his tail around. "It took a while, but it's not gone anymore."

"And his wings?" Valka pointed at Spark. "Do those membranes grow back? Most dragons would be crippled for life with tears like he must have suffered."

"No, Emb- Hiccup stitched them together so that they would heal." It might be harder to keep this mild deception going than he thought. He was already tripping up.

"Good." Valka turned to greet an approaching Nadder, one with a strange stick in her maw. "Ah, thank you."

Beryl and Herb both stared as Valka took the odd stick and twirled it precisely, smacking it against the ground at one point. The noises of things inside rolling and moving were oddly amplified somehow and sounded almost familiar...

A growl, Beryl realized with a start. It sounded like a growl, a low one, one of thanks...

With that, he heard it. It was a voice, when combined with the low humming Valka was now doing, the stick and its mechanisms providing the tones No-scaled-not-prey were incapable of making, blending with Valka's higher notes. It was soft yet discordant, a sound that brought silence to the area as dragons heard and quieted to listen.

"We return." Valka's odd dragon voice breathed, a very strange accent coloring it. "With new cause."

"Yes?" The Stormcutter nudged Valka eagerly. "And are the Night Furies joining us?"

"They will; their mission," Valka slowly replied. This way of speaking seemed to be slow and sounded strange, but it was understandable by any dragon, a major benefit and the reason she seemed to be using it. "We go rescue females."

"Mates?" The Stormcutter asked rudely, leering at Beryl and Herb, "or prospective ones?"

"Mine and my daughter," Herb replied crossly, offended by the mocking lilt in the Stormcutter's voice.

"Monster has them," Valka announced.

The entire world became abruptly silent. That statement had brought total and utter attention to Valka.

"We have orders not to engage Monster's ships," the Stormcutter began.

"We will not." Valka slammed her staff on the ground, creating a deeper, more confident growl. "We take them from island."

An uproar, everyone objecting at once. Spark was looking around with wide eyes, and Beryl had a sinking feeling what Valka had just proposed was not going to fly with this group.

"We cannot, the alpha has-"

"Not said no attack Monster's mountain," Valka finished.

"He also has not forbidden trying to breathe water as he does, for much the same reason," one dragon muttered. "Both are suicide."

"We will not be able to get anywhere near there!" another objected angrily.

"Quiet." Even when they did not agree with her, all of the dragons quickly quieted themselves to hear that odd voice. "My Wing only distract. Need stealth, need get there quickly."

"So who is going?" Stormcutter nudged Valka. "I will not leave you."

"I know, friend." Valka raised her staff for a moment before continuing to wave it to speak. "All willing create distraction, fly. All else home now."

Two of the Cutters looked as if they would fly, but did not actually commit. None of the other dragons moved.

"We will not disobey the alpha," one admitted. "Stormcutter can because alpha gave him leave to protect you no matter what. The rest of us must depart."

"I know," Valka said, managing even a subtle tone of acceptance. "Fly home, Wing. Tell Alpha I say not send any after me if I not return, for that proof this suicide." It took a long time for her to get through all of that, but everyone waited patiently.

"Yes, Wing-Leader," the dragons all roared in unison, setting into the air. It seemed they had been ready to depart when Valka returned, for they were now ready to leave on a moment's notice. In minutes only the Furies, Valka, and Stormcutter remained.

"A bit more help would have been nice," Beryl muttered. "But any help is appreciated," he finished pragmatically, nudging Herb. "This is good enough."

"Yes, it had better be," Herb replied seriously. "Are you sure you know where Thorn is being taken?" he asked Valka.

Valka swung her staff to reply to him. "Monster's follower took her?"

"Yes," Beryl supplied helpfully. "Krogan."

"Then yes. Monster has safe place," Valka answered with her staff and her humming. "I know where."

"Then we will go," Herb announced.

"When wing heals," Valka objected, pointing at Beryl. "No fly before."

Beryl did not want to be the reason they took longer to get to Thorn. He would never forgive himself if they waited and then were too late for some horrible reason. "No, we can't wait." What was to come stung his pride, but that was a small price to pay for this. "Can the Stormcutter carry me?"

The Stormcutter looked him over. "Yes, though only barely."

"Then we go now," Valka agreed. She grinned at Beryl. "It seems we ride together on this trip," she quipped in the language of No-scaled-not-prey, putting her staff away.

Great, he had to ride another dragon again. Didn't he just think that he would never let that happen?

O-O-O-O-O

Being stuck with Valka on the Stormcutter for the first few days wasn't so bad. They could talk, as they both knew each other's languages, and Valka didn't even need her staff. It did, at certain points, become uncomfortable. The worst of those moments, for Beryl at least, was when Valka asked after an inconsistency.

"So is Hiccup close with Ember, your Sire?" Valka asked casually. They had been speaking of Hiccup, and Beryl had been giving her stories from before the events involving Vithvarandi. The connection between Hiccup and Ember was not one Beryl had elaborated on, for fear of tripping himself up in the lie. For all Valka knew, they were still separate people.

"Very close, kindred spirits, as I have said," Beryl replied, hoping that would be enough.

"You see as a brother the one who is so similar to your Sire?" Valka asked, sounding half confused and half amused.

"He was my brother in spirit before he even met Ember," which was true.

"Has he grown distant from you since then?" Valka asked with a frown.

That was a tricky question, and an embarrassing one, as it threatened to catch Beryl out in a lie later. If things were as he had described, maybe Hiccup would have drifted a bit away from Beryl, in preference of one with a soul even more like his own, but Beryl chose to believe that would not happen, even in a hypothetical. It was a fair question, given what he had told Valka.

He settled on the truth. "No, if anything Hiccup's closeness with Ember has made he and I closer as well."

"Hiccup has one-upped his father, then," Valka mused sadly. "Stoick could never handle personal relationships. It was either one friend or another, not both. When Gobber was injured, Stoick and Alvin drifted apart, as Stoick focused on being there for Gobber and ignored Alvin."

"I never met Alvin," Beryl noted. "Did he die?"

"Worse," Valka growled, sounding more like a dragon than Ryker had. "He betrayed Stoick and was banished."

"So where is he now?" Beryl asked.

"How should I know?" Valka sounded amused. "You are more up to date than I am. Whoever is chief of Berk now is probably having to fend him off, though he was always a terrible planner, so I wouldn't be too worried."

"Astrid will destroy him," Beryl mused happily.

"So it is a woman?" Valka laughed happily. "Never thought Berk would let that happen. They were stuck in their ways when I left."

"I guess if you throw out one custom, you don't see the others as unassailable anymore." That made sense, though idiots like Mildew would always defend the way things had been. Oh, wait, Mildew was dead. Was it wrong to think badly of the dead? It was Mildew, so probably not.

That had swung the conversation away from dangerous topics, but Beryl felt a pang of guilt for deceiving Valka. She would learn the truth once Ember showed up, and Hiccup wasn't present...

Unless Beryl could get to him first, and Ember could pull off a continued deception. Ember and Hiccup, and Valka would just never see them together.

No, the way Beryl had painted their friendship, that would be way too suspicious. Valka would figure out that something was up, and besides which, Beryl was pretty sure Ember wouldn't like lying to his own Dam.

Who was as of now helping save Ember's other Dam. That was odd. Of course, 'odd' described Ember's life perfectly. Why should this be any different?

O-O-O-O-O

"Tomorrow, we reach Monster's mountain," Valka asserted with a confident hum. Beryl found it amusing that though she referred to Drago with his actual name in her own language, in dragon language she called him Monster. Maybe to prevent confusion? Her artificially-induced accent already slurred the rumble that meant 'dragon', so the name 'Drago' might just be too much trouble for too confusing a sound.

"If we leave here at noon, we will approach just after dark," the Stormcutter added. "What is the plan?"

"Prisoners," Valka said with a grimace, "held in cells; bottom of mountain."

"How do you know that?" Beryl had heard her description of that place on the way here, and now that he thought about it, she had known the inside fairly well...

"I was a prisoner, once, though I escaped in a moment of chaos," Valka admitted in her own language, drawing patterns in the wavy grass beneath them as she spoke with her staff. "Long ago, but one does not change passages in stone."

"Good enough," Beryl huffed. "We go there, get them out, and leave."

"Distractions needed," Valka asserted, back to speaking with her staff. "Who?"

"Stormcutter is loud." Spark rejoined the conversation, having been rolling in the soft grass. Beryl had done the same if for a much briefer time, reveling in both the grass and his no longer pained wingtip.

"You are sensitive in hearing," the Stormcutter growled, "I am not that loud."

"I must go in," Valka added. "A dark wing carry me."

"All or none of them, friend." The Stormcutter was serious. "I am your carrier."

"All," Valka smiled. "Meanwhile, Stormcutter and... Spark."

Spark jumped at being named. "I am part of the distraction?"

"Do what Stormcutter does," Valka instructed. "Rest of us go in through docks. Those complicated, and closer to cells than windows on the back. After, follow my lead." Her speech was slow and broken, but they listened carefully for every word.

Beryl had no objections to that. At noon the next day, they would travel to the mountain, and they would infiltrate from the front as night fell, with Spark and Cloudjumper causing some sort of distraction to draw guards away once they were in. Perfect.

Later, he worked up the nerve to say what needed to be said. "Herb, Spark, I'm sorry."

Herb stared at him. "What for?"

"Did I miss something?" Spark sounded genuinely unsure.

"I messed up our escape, and we only got lucky that Valka was the one buying us. I could have gotten us killed." It was the truth.

Herb laughed. "Spark, did you know we were several levels below the top of the wooden contraption? Because I did not."

"No, is that what happened?" Spark chirped curiously. "I assumed someone had seen Beryl."

"That too, but I could have taken him on." Beryl did not mention the other pairs of feet he had seen.

"If you are to blame for not guessing we were lower than we thought," Herb continued, "then we are also to blame. None of us anticipated that. At least you got us out of the cells. It was a good try."

"Yeah." Spark walked up to stand beside Beryl and put a wing over him. "Good try, little brother."

What?! Beryl shrugged the wing off. "I didn't see you coming up with anything, brother." Spark knew by unspoken agreement that the term 'little brother' did not apply to Beryl!

"Calm down young one," Spark said teasingly.

"That's it!" Beryl turned and shoved, knocking Spark over and pinning him. "Who's little now?"

"I am sorry!" Spark gasped. "You are!" He laughed, rolling out of the hold. "But not by much."

"Not much at all," Beryl agreed. "And we judge by mental maturity anyway, fledgling."

"Okay, I deserved that," Spark admitted, still laughing. "Are we even?"

"Even," Beryl conceded. Even until Spark forgot to be on his guard.

It was a moment of levity before a serious mission. Beryl almost, but not quite, forgot what they were going to do.

They were coming for Thorn and Storm, if Storm was there, which Valka said she would be.


	20. Encounters

A mountain that was not solid, ringed with inhospitable beaches. On one side, a large hole at the base of the mountain, and a choked corridor interspersed with docks, a watery passage right to the base of the mountain. The docks were lit sporadically, and half of the space was occupied with ships, all of the same make. Drago's ship lay deserted, chief among the lingering watercraft. It almost seemed to be waiting, a malevolent presence in the mouth of the mountain.

The opposite side of the mountain was a partial grid of lights spilling out of holes in the sheer cliffs, windows cut to alleviate the dark and musty corridors and to provide necessary air. Large windows, for airflow, entirely undefended from the outside. The designer who had drawn the plans for the warren within the rocky spire jutting from the ocean had not considered dragons. Why should he, when his employer was Drago Bludvist, the man who took dragons for servants as easily as he did men? There was to be nothing in the mountain to lure wild dragons anyway.

Nothing to lure wild dragons. No food easily smelled from afar, no water, so sign of anything more inviting than death or worse lurking within.

Even now, with the mountain sparsely populated, far less than half the normal occupying force present, it was foreboding. Maybe more so with so many empty, silent corridors. Danger sporadically patrolled the mountain, rarer and thus unexpected.

Night, with no moon, the clouds obscuring the stars, the wind a keening dirge that howled as though for the dead. A night like any other, on the surface.

Two forces approached the mountain, remaining unaware of each other as they infiltrated from opposite ends, with different goals.

From the back, a camouflaged Light Fury slipped into a window, knocked out a soldier, and signaled her two companions, who swiftly entered the mountain, unheard and unseen by any. Wraiths in the dark night.

High above the front face of the mountain and mere moments later, a larger force bid farewell to two of its members, who remained in the air, waiting a predetermined amount of time before springing into action. In the meantime, the other members of that group swooped down and flew straight into the deserted mouth of the mountain.

One mission to kill a man. Another to save a dragon. Two goals that did not take into account what was awakening a short distance out to sea, what was chained by training and not physical bonds, a presence that would soon be felt by all dragons.

Drago's Bewilderbeast stirred, pushing his newly-awakening powers. Inside the mountain, the two who had been exposed to the Bewilderbeast's initial pushes faltered, only barely resisting the waxing strength pushing at their minds. That resistance would not last. No dragon could resist it for long.

The dragons flying into the mountain in various ways, or hovering outside it, did not know of this. The power ebbed and flowed, and now was a time of ebbing, as the Bewilderbeast slept fitfully.

But it was waking up, ready to resume its mental stretching and striving...

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl waved a wooden object, wondering as she did what it was used for. An odd bent shape, flat surfaces at opposition to each other. She really didn't know. The ship she had been held captive on hadn't had any where she was kept, and that was the sum total of her knowledge.

A pair of glowing yellow-orange eyes neared the window. Pearl set the chair down, trying not to make any noise. She was invisible, but not in any way silenced by her own abilities. The silence she had perfected was one of care and practice.

Ember and Storm latched onto the window and climbed in, one after the other.

Ember noticed the unconscious soldier. "Good work. Did he make any noise?" He did not even bother looking for Pearl, knowing that the blur in the air that was only barely noticeable was the best he could see of her.

"No." She was proud of that, at least a little. She had managed to silence it without killing it.

"We might need to leave this way," Ember said carefully. "He should be gotten rid of."

"You mean killed?" Pearl didn't particularly care, but it didn't feel very honorable.

"I don't want to," Ember muttered. "He deserves it, for what he is, what he chooses to be, but he is not attacking, unable to defend himself..."

Pearl didn't like the conflict she heard in Ember's voice. "I've got it." She grabbed the man and pulled him towards the window, preparing to drop him out. Safely out of the way and...

She only took note of the looks of complete shock on the others' faces as she was dangling the unconscious soldier out the window.

"Wha'?" Its smelly clothing was making it hard to talk. She was taking great care not to accidentally taste it as she held him with her mouth.

"No-scaled-not-prey do not fly, and do not take falls well," Storm remarked dryly. "Though that is a good way to get rid of the body, I suppose."

Pearl hastily pulled the body back in. "Oh, right. I forgot." They were not that high above the dark beach. A dragon would have been bruised but fine.

"I've got it," Ember announced, shifting into his scrawny No-scaled-not-prey form. He pulled the unconscious hunter to the far end of the room and awkwardly tied him up, using some nearby cloths as makeshift ropes. "Really, we can leave from any window, but better safe than sorry." He tightened the knots. "The longer this guy takes to sound the alarm, the better."

With that handled, Pearl began phase two of their plan. She very carefully nudged the wooden bit of the otherwise stone wall, sighing as it gave easily, opening into a corridor. There was no one around, the flickering flames of torches in iron settings the only movement.

In the strategy they had predetermined, Pearl led the way, her invisible body followed by Ember in No-scaled-not-prey form, and finally Storm. From behind, Storm would look very much like Second, who presumably walked these stone passages as freely as he did Drago's ship, and from the front Ember was visible, a No-scaled-not-prey who was not so very out of place, at least not as out of place as Pearl would be. A faint shimmer and warping in the air was all Pearl would appear to be in the shifting shadows cast by the fitful torches. Ember laid a No-scaled-not-prey paw on Pearl's back, letting touch guide him.

Pearl was technically leading them, but as she didn't know where Drago would be any better than Ember or Storm, she was no better than either of them at picking a good path. They were all equally clueless.

For the moment, Pearl worked her way into the heart of the mountain, assuming the more important things would be central.

They came across no hunters, no enemies, in the first few minutes. The world consisted of their own footsteps, the crackling of fire in the torches, and breathing. Silence ruled.

Then something happened. Pearl staggered momentarily, breathing erratically. "What was that?"

Ember blinked. "What was what?" He had not noticed anything?

Storm growled. "That felt wrong, but it is gone now. Keep moving." With that reminder, the trio continued.

To Pearl, that wave of power had felt wrong, it was true, but also familiar. She wasn't sure why.

O-O-O-O-O

Beryl glided into the mouth of the cavern, passing over wooden crates, the bases of the docks that stretched out over the water, and many things he had no name for, though they all seemed to fit there. It was like the docks of Berk but partially inside a cave of massive proportions.

At the moment, Valka was on his back, as he was the most experienced with carrying a rider. She held her staff like a weapon. It might be the way she fought, devoid of blades but not of weight. A long stick to club people with would be better than nothing in a pinch.

At the back of this large natural cavern, the ceiling lowered, stalactites forcing the Furies to land and approach on foot. There were many tunnels in the far wall, passages hewn out of solid stone, all disappearing into the mountain. Nothing marked them, and they were alike in shape, size, and dim flickering torchlight within.

Valka dismounted and stood there, considering the passages for a moment. "The prisoners are kept near the far end, but in the middle of the mountain," she said, speaking half to herself as if lost in memory. "This place is not heavily occupied, judging by the ships, but we must be alert." She strode towards one of the passages, her black leather armor silhouetting against the entrance.

"Is that it?" Herb looked ready to go charging in. He was definitely almost fed up with slowness and waiting, but he would have to deal with it for a while longer.

"Yes, I think-" An advancing echo of footsteps, boots, and deep voices, began to emanate from one of the other passages. A patrol, or just a hunter about his business, but either way someone was coming.

"We should not fight unless caught," Valka hissed. "Come on!" She disappeared into the passage. Beryl and Herb followed, quickly darting in to disappear behind the twists and turns of this particular path.

Advancing at a fast trot, Valka led the Furies further, stopping before intersections to peer down the side paths, carefully ensuring they were not spotted.

At the second such intersection, footsteps began to echo again, much closer this time. Hunters were very close.

Valka listened for a moment, before holding up a hand. Wait.

Beryl and Herb stopped, obeying. What were they waiting-

A boot stepped into the intersection, and Valka thrust her staff like a spear, connecting solidly with the just-arrived hunter's stomach, a sudden and abrupt exhale the loudest sound the hunter made. She followed up with a blow to the throat, which elicited a squeak of quite a high pitch, before a shove to the hunter's chest, knocking the back of his helmet against a wall. His eyes fluttered closed and his body went limp.

All in all, not a sound had been made, at least not one louder than the hunter's own footsteps. Herb hummed in approval before following Valka further in.

Then both Beryl and Herb stumbled. Whatever the wave of power had been, it receded as quickly as it had approached, but Beryl's confidence had been shattered. He knew that feeling.

"Stop!" Beryl hissed. "There's a Queen or something around here!"

Everyone froze. "A Queen?" Valka echoed uncertainly.

"Big dragon who controls with her mind," Beryl hastily explained. "Something is pushing with its mind, and it feels similar."

"Is it taking over?" Valka asked worriedly.

"No," Herb snarled, responding to Beryl's halting of their progress, as he did not understand Valka. "Keep moving. We need Thorn out of here now."

Valka looked to Beryl, who shrugged. It really hadn't been that strong, and it was gone now. Besides, Herb would not be dissuaded, and he needed backup.

The three rescuers continued towards the cells.

O-O-O-O-O

Spark wheeled around in the air, counting in his head... and out loud so that the Stormcutter could hear. This was a good plan, an easy plan. He hoped Beryl and the others would come back soon after the distraction started.

"one hundred!" One hundred wingbeats while gliding, quite a long time. "It is time!"

The Stormcutter huffed irritably. "I was counting on my own, I know!"

"But you have four wings," Spark pointed out. "How can your hundred take as long as mine?" It made sense that more wings to flap meant a hundred wingbeats would be reached faster.

"I..." The Stormcutter looked quite rightfully confused. "But I beat all of my wings at once, and count that as one! I could have a hundred wings and the time would still be the same." With that, he shook his head and roared powerfully.

Spark did the same, knowing that this was only the first part of the distraction. After he had added to the other dragon's barrage of noise, he fired a blast into the sky, watching the quite beautiful display of purple fire detonate far overhead, a ball of light illuminating the world for a moment. Hopefully, this would draw the right kind of-

A wave of pressure, almost pain in his head. Spark faltered, blinking rapidly to clear his head. What had that been? It wasn't strong at all, but it felt like it could be, in time.

"What was that?" Spark turned to look at the Stormcutter, only to see his eyes thin slits, a sign of immense anger. "Uhh..."

The Stormcutter flew methodically, not paying any attention to the wind, and moving erratically as a result. "This one was easy. Why does it feel like I know the way here, but not with the one I know best?"

"Come again?" Spark did not feel good about the Stormcutter's abrupt change in inflection. The fact that the much larger and older dragon was speaking nonsense was not reassuring.

The Stormcutter turned to look at Spark. "You. You should be mine too. Maybe I can get you if you come closer." With that, the Stormcutter flung himself at Spark.

"No thanks!" Spark barked, pulling up and away. Whatever had gotten into the Stormcutter, he wanted no part in it. But the Stormcutter, right on his tail, was insistent.

The two plummeted through the sky, Spark throwing himself into a dive, still followed doggedly by the Stormcutter. "Stop it!"

"No." The Stormcutter still spoke in a toneless voice. "I want you too."

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl worked her way further into the mountain. Her progress was stymied by a strange little slanted path that curled in on itself.

Ember growled, an odd sound in his No-scaled-not-prey form. "The stairs are small. We can't change floors with these. Only I stand any chance of fitting."

"So unless Drago happens to be on this floor," Pearl began with a sinking feeling, "we can't get to him?" So much for them going with Ember.

"Well, Ember is not going alone," Storm huffed. "At least let us be sure Drago is not on this level first."

That seemed like a sensible idea. Pearl backtracked, finding the last intersection she had encountered, and turning the corner to go a different way.

A hunter bumped into her, falling back as he did. "What the-" the burly man began.

Ember leaped past Pearl even as the hunter drew his crossbow, slashing at the bulkier man's arms. Blood splattered to the stone below, and Ember stabbed brutally, silencing the hunter before he could scream. Sound might be deadly if there were others who could hear nearby.

The hunter collapsed into a pile of black ash, and Ember grimaced. "Now I've got a better form for this, at least," he muttered, "no matter how distasteful that always is."

Pearl stared in muted shock at the ash. She had been told he could do it but seeing it was another thing, as was seeing Ember shift into the form of the No-scaled-not-prey he had just killed. It was wrong, twisted, but necessary here.

She would be happy to see Ember-the-dragon again, that was for sure. This was unnerving, looking at one who seemed in every aspect a hunter and knowing this one, unremarkable among the masses of them that Drago might command, concealed the mind she was coming to very much like. Strange.

"Now I should lead," Ember said gruffly. "They won't suspect me until they get a good look at Storm, and I'll be ready if they do." He took the group down an as of then unexplored passage.

They traveled in silence for a few minutes, turning every once in a while. Pearl was unsure what the point of this particular section of the mountain was. It seemed to consist of grid-like corridors and empty rooms at regular intervals.

"Storage," Ember quickly explained when she asked. "Unused, which might be why no one is around. We'll have to go back to the windows and enter another, on a different floor."

They were in the process of doing just that when another wave of mental force washed over them. This one was stronger. Pearl gasped, some of her memories coming to the surface of her mind involuntarily. She shuddered, making a connection even as a faraway voice whispered in her mind, soft and weak, but solidifying.

_'You too. And the female beside you. What makes you three different? You are easier, though not as easy as the four-wing.'_

This was another alpha, one with less power... and less benevolent intent. Pearl could feel tendrils weakly pushing at her self-control as if trying to erode it.

Trying to take control. It was sifting through memory now with that weak grip, something the good alpha had said he never did.

Pearl could hear Storm moaning beside her, could feel time passing. Ember was speaking, but she could not concentrate enough to make out what he was saying. The probing of her mind consumed her attention.

_'You are strong, young. Show me what you want, so I can keep you under my sway…'_

This alpha was not in control of his mental voice, some small part of Pearl noted as she struggled with herself. He wanted good memories, for whatever reason. Control needed those to work.

Well, it just so happened she had recently recalled some disturbing ones. She decided to see what he would do with that instead and pulled those memories up to meet the tendrils, feeling both desperate and spiteful, angry at the one who was trying to take her over even as she began to panic that it might happen.

It might have been a terrible mistake, giving that which hurt her to an enemy in her mind, but Pearl was betting on the alpha wanting to experience the memories, to live them and then use the knowledge they imparted, as that fit with what the other alpha had told her about understanding what he needed to manipulate. Hopefully...

A mental howl of anguish and the searching tendrils snapped. The wave of power abruptly ended a moment after Pearl guided the memory of Claw's first violation of her to those seeking tendrils.

She collapsed as if whatever had been holding her up had been cut, noting Storm did the same. It seemed Pearl had hurt the alpha with that. Good. There was plenty more where that one came from.

Storm shuddered, struggling to her feet. "We must leave this place! Pearl bought us time!" There was a haunted look in her eyes.

Pearl shook her head. There was something about that which felt wrong, but this was not the time to think about it. "Yes!"

Ember wavered. "What is going on?!" He didn't stop for an answer, following them on back the way they had come in. "Explain on the way out!"

Pearl did not want to explain what she had done. "Another alpha, one that is not as strong or experienced. I showed him something he didn't like, but I don't know if he'll try again!" She bolted, quickly overtaking Ember. They all knew the way out. The three of them ran back to the nearest window.

No longer was this about killing Drago if they could even find him in here. Now it was just about getting out before the alpha tried again. Even Ember did not argue, though he could not feel the surges, could not hear the voice in his head. The naked fear in their eyes was more than enough to convince him it was time to go.

O-O-O-O-O

Spark sighed in relief when the renewed pressure in his head cut off at the same moment that the Stormcutter faltered, falling back. That relief turned to concern as the other dragon howled, a sound that seemed a mix of pain and despair. It cut itself off as quickly as it started.

A glance back revealed that the Stormcutter was still chasing, though Spark had gained quite a bit of ground. He needed to figure out how to snap him out of it! Whatever this was.

Spark remembered what Beryl had described about a Queen dragon, one who took over minds. Maybe this was similar.

If it was, then there was nothing Spark could do. He needed Beryl to figure this out. The stories Beryl had told never explained exactly how the control was broken.

When the Stormcutter broke off the chase and began flying full speed towards the mountain, Spark reluctantly followed, hoping the other dragon would snap out of it.

O-O-O-O-O

Valka slammed the butt of her staff into the back of the last hunter, a strange crack and muffled scream echoing through the small chamber. She stood, releasing the stranglehold she had put the man in.

Beryl tossed a helmet aside, awkwardly wiping his muzzle on the stone walls. No-scaled-not-prey blood tasted bad, dirty. This group had been more difficult, but they had seemed to be guarding something. His observations were proved correct when Valka did not continue on.

"This is a cell," Valka informed them, pointing at one of the stone walls. "These levers are how they move the walls."

"Walls? Why not just have a door?" Beryl didn't know why this was any better than said alternative. Also... "Is someone in this one?"

"Probably, as it was being guarded," Herb remarked, pawing at the lever. "How do we work it?"

"Easy," Valka replied, pulling the lever down, her action accompanied by clanking and groaning metal from somewhere nearby. "A quite well-built pulley and weight systems move the stone."

True to her words, the wall was pulling back, receding into the stone it abutted, revealing...

"Wrong dragon?" Beryl asked in utter confusion. "But right kind of dragon?" He had never seen this blue Night Fury before...

Herb snarled and pounced. "Die!" He screamed, totally out of control, grappling with the blue male Fury. As they rolled, another, smaller body became visible behind them. Thorn watched in horror, her eyes wide.

She was smaller than Beryl remembered, thinner, though he only had a second to note that before his eyes were drawn to the fight even as Thorn intervened.

"That is not him!" Thorn yelled, her voice hoarse and terrified.

Herb paused, rolling to a stop on top of the blue Fury. "How can it not be?!"

"For one thing," the Fury beneath Herb coughed, "my brother is dead. You are not clawing at a dead body right now, so I am not him."

Beryl realized that the other Fury looked weak and was not fighting back. He wasn't sure if the two were connected or not.

At that moment, another wave of power pulsed through the world. This felt wrong, so very wrong, but it was not wrong in the way that the Queen dragon had been. It was just as bad, but different. He fought off the influence.

Others, it seemed, were not so resilient. Herb leaped away from the blue Fury, whose eyes had become slits, and stared in horror at Thorn, whose eyes were the same.

Beryl knew that look. They both had been taken over.

The blue one spoke in a monotone. "Easy, my most well-known teacher. My servant now."

At the exact same time, Thorn muttered, "Not so easy, this one. Still, she is mine now."

Thorn looked up, making eye contact with Herb. "Why are you," her gaze turned to Beryl, "and you, harder than these two?"

Herb snarled even as Valka advanced, her eyes wide and terrified. He roared defiantly after a moment, completely disregarding the need for stealth. "Let my mate go, whatever you are."

"No, I-" Thorn convulsed, dropping to the ground without warning. She moaned, blinking as her pupils expanded. The blue Night Fury was doing the same. It was clear whatever had taken them had lost its hold at least temporarily.

Herb rushed to his mate's side, licking her ears urgently. "Come, Thorn! We must leave."

"I was... I felt..." Thorn moaned. "It happened again, but this time I was not myself! What horrors come for me now?!"

"I do not know, but come on!" Herb whined frantically. Then he whirled around to glare at Valka, who was pulling the blue Fury up cautiously. "Leave the monster here!"

"Yes," the blue Fury whined. "Leave me, please, if you want to escape. I cannot leave." He weakly flourished his tail, devoid of tailfins. "I am stuck here."

Valka gasped. "But you-"

"I am not a prisoner, not really," the blue Fury coughed. "I will survive. Go!"

"Do it," Thorn agreed. "He will not leave." Her voice suggested she didn't like that, but the choice of words was also clear. This was the blue one's choice.

This entire situation felt fragmented, rushed, as if too much was being left unsaid and not enough explained or thought through, but Beryl knew he was unlikely to understand any better as long as something was randomly pushing and pulling at everyone's minds. "Come on!" He led the exodus, blasting anything that moved before them. Herb's roar had attracted attention, but the winding corridors meant Beryl could clear the way quickly and efficiently, there being no room for groups of hunters to dodge blasts. A pile of bodies was easier to run over than live hunters.

Looking back, it was clear Thorn needed as much help as possible. She was downright scrawny, her frame far leaner than before, unhealthy. Despite that, she was running in front of Herb with a speed that defied how she looked. Judging by the fear in her eyes, she was running on pure adrenaline. Hopefully, that would keep her going until they were safe.

Beryl was almost out of shots by the time he reentered the large cave of the docks and saw a whole group of hunters in the way. Luckily, he wasn't the only Fury they had with them.

He stepped to the side, and Herb fired three times, hitting stalactites above the hunters with a blast right after driving them behind cover with the first two. The resulting rock falling and shattering on the stone ground completely stunned the remaining hunters.

Valka leaped onto Beryl's back even as he took to the sky, narrowly avoiding scraping her off on the remaining stalactites. Even as the others took to the air, yells and footsteps could be heard from multiple corridors.

The maze-like qualities of this place had saved them. If they had run into that many hunters on the ground while inside, it would be over before the fight even began, but the hunters had not been able to get to them in time. Luck.

Luck, Beryl noted as they soared out into the open sky, had been with them every moment of this frantic, rushed rescue. Was still with them, seeing as no one had been shot on the way out and that Thorn for the moment was flying like her life depended on it.

"Spark!" Beryl roared. An answering roar from very close by surprised him even as Spark dropped down from above.

"The Stormcutter is going crazy!" Spark whined. "He will not listen, he tried to chase me down, and now he is just circling above a bit of ocean, not responding!"

"Circling," Beryl growled. "He's probably right above whatever tried to take control of Thorn and the other." The dragons had circled above the Queen when she wanted them ready to go but had not given orders yet. The Stormcutter was gone.

"We have to get him out of there!" Valka shouted, having heard everything from her position on Beryl's back.

"Thorn is going to fall sooner or later," Beryl roared right back, "and I don't know how! We'll come back for him later! Right now we'll lose someone else, possibly all of us, if we try!" It felt like they were right back where they had started but in a worse scenario. One prisoner saved, one rescuer imprisoned.

But they had to leave. The group by unspoken decision turned to fly directly away from where the Stormcutter could just barely be seen, circling mindlessly.

Soft drops of water on his back told Beryl Valka was crying. She had not gained anything from this personally, and she had lost her best friend.

O-O-O-O-O

The window. Pearl almost sobbed in relief as she barged through a wooden door, having set it on fire and then rammed it rather than slowing for Ember to open it. There was a window, though this was not the room they had entered from.

Ember leaped onto her back, holding on tightly, easily doing so because her camouflage had worn off on the way back. "Get us out there!"

With that, she leaped out, away from the entire terrible mountain and whatever inside it had been rummaging through her mind, Storm hot on her heels, staying low to the water. They had failed, but Pearl felt lucky to get away in control of herself.

Ember dropped off of Pearl, shifting to his true form in midair, leveling out slightly lower than the other two. "What happened in there?!"

Storm glanced over at Pearl. "Someone tried to take over our minds, and Pearl hurt him bad enough to make him stop."

"Hurt him?" Ember warbled in surprise and curiosity. "How?"

"A bad memory," Storm said in a dazed voice. "She let him look, and he lived it. I did too."

Pearl faltered, her mind blanking for a second. Storm had...

That was what had felt wrong, how Storm had known what Pearl did, that it was Pearl's work at all.

"I'm so sorry Storm, I-" Pearl began to whine.

"Stop! You did what you had to, and we are lucky you thought to do it at all!" Storm growled. "We can talk about this later." The look in Storm's eyes, pain and understanding, told Pearl that she would be receiving quite a bit of sympathy from Storm in the immediate future... and depending on how vividly Storm had experienced that memory, possibly comforting the dark wing herself.

They circled around, angling to slingshot back towards the place they had rested before the failed incursion, orbiting the mountain at a safe distance.

At first, Pearl thought she was seeing things. She blinked. "Storm, do you see that?" A gleam of a metallic color...

"Yes, I do," Storm mused aloud. "Gold? Why does a gold dragon sound so familiar?"

Pearl looked down at Ember. "Didn't you..." She trailed off as the realization hit her, seeing Ember's blank expression. Blank, as if not comprehending, staring at the gold dragon flying in a flock of darker shapes, standing out with his reflective coloration.

Gold. Hadn't one of Ember's sons been golden yellow in color? Spark, was it? But he was supposed to be dead.

Ember shot forward, his eyes still blank and confused. Pearl and Storm followed, moving as fast as they could, straining to keep up as Ember rapidly sped towards the other dragons.

Storm began roaring, screaming in a mixture of anger and excitement. "If that is what I think it is Ember, I am going to kill you for lying!"

The golden Fury must have heard that because he dropped abruptly and spun around. It was too far yet to make out his face, but not too far to make out the fact that there were more Furies, four in total.

Ember saw this. Pearl happened to be looking down at him at the moment he confirmed in his own mind what they were flying towards. So, she got a perfect view of the exact moment Ember's eyes rolled up into his head and his wings folded, lifeless.

Ember had just fainted, which was entirely understandable, given he was literally realizing his family was not dead, had never been dead.

But he was flying above the freezing cold ocean, the closest land around hostile to the extreme. Fainting might be a death sentence.

Pearl screamed in horror as Ember plummeted, hitting the water with a splash.

**_Author's Note:_ If this chapter felt rushed, that's good. You felt the same confusion and inability to process that everyone in-story felt. A quick and hard-hitting chapter, and of course I leave you with a life-threatening cliff-hanger. Have fun waiting a week for this one!**

**Also, to quote a note I attached to the beginning of this chapter for my beta: 'There's a reason I kept travel times vague. This way they can all happen to end up in the same place at the same time without the headache of matching up travel times and all of that.' Sometimes, stuff like that aids the story and makes it feel more real, but it can be a massive headache to coordinate, especially if there isn't an equal amount of content for both sides of the traveling. Skipping over Beryl and company's travel time keeps the flow of the story going without unnecessary fluff to pad out traveling. (This is also the same reason behind why you couldn't draw an accurate map of this world from my stories if you tried. The less I define, the more open my options are.)**


	21. Recovery

**_Author's Note:_ Another 48-hour-early post, because I'm looking at another Saturday in which there's no chance I'll be able to put a chapter up. Lucky you? Or maybe unlucky, to possibly have to wait nine days for the next one. We'll see.**

Beryl was just trying to think of some further reassurance he could give Valka, moments after it was decided that they couldn't go back for the Stormcutter right now, when some strange sound reached his ears, like yelling from far behind him.

"... kill you for lying!"

Even odder, it was a female's voice, and she sounded almost as excited as she was angry. Wait!

Even as he swerved midair and noted that Spark was already going back to their pursuers, Beryl inwardly berated himself for totally forgetting about the other possible prisoner they had come to find. Although it seemed Ember had found her, by the looks of it, so that worked out fine.

Ember. Beryl barked happily at Herb and Thorn. "Ember got Storm!"

With that, the entire party swung around to meet up with the rapidly approaching Furies, all three of them.

Odd, that there were three. The third seemed to be white, a new color Beryl had not thought possible. Trust Ember to somehow end up with more dragons than they had started with.

Relief turned to horror when Ember abruptly folded up like he had been struck, his momentum carrying him forward even as he plunged into the water below. The ice-cold, deadly water below.

Beryl could feel himself pushing forward and down with his wings, straining to reach where Ember had gone down. After everything, this could not be how he lost his friend!

He was a few seconds away, but the two Furies who had been with Ember, Storm and the other, did not hesitate to swoop down. Ember's body, limp and lifeless, had not sunk quite yet and was floating half on top of the surface. By the time Beryl reached it, the two Furies had latched on to Ember and were flapping mightily, barely keeping him from slipping below the surface.

"Help us!" Storm cried out frantically. "He is too heavy to lift!" The white Fury howled in frustration and agreement.

Beryl took in the situation in a heartbeat. Storm had the base of a wing, the white Fury the scruff of Ember's neck.

They could do it if they did it right. "Spark," Beryl barked, his voice stern, "grab his tail, Herb get under him when he's out of the water and push up! We head to the island close by." The newcomers wouldn't know that place in all likelihood, but they could just follow Spark's lead.

After he finished roaring out instructions, Beryl himself dove and latched onto Ember's other wing, just far enough away from the body that his flapping to remain in the air did not foul the wings of the others. Ember's body shifted, lighter. Not light enough to pull up, not yet. They could not hover like this for long, but they needed more lift to get anywhere.

Then Spark tried to grab on to Ember's tail. His first lunge missed the thin appendage drifting in the water, but his second caught on, and he awkwardly pulled up, joining them.

Four Night Furies struggling to lift a single one. It worked, if barely, though their uncoordinated flights made the movement erratic and slow. Ember's limp body emerged totally from the waves and began moving up and forward, though Spark was leading the way, meaning Ember was being carried tail-first.

Herb lunged underneath Ember once he was high enough and began pushing up with his back, lightening the load even further to a manageable weight.

Now the issue was not weight, it was unequal forces. Each Fury had a different grip, meaning a different angle to their flight. They were pulling Ember in slightly different directions, making it harder and harder for each other to keep a grip on him.

"Everyone! I'm going to let go and get a better hold! Don't let him fall!" Beryl did so once he heard growls of agreement, readjusting his hold so that he could fly at the same angle as Spark. "Now you, Storm!"

Storm had a harder time, missing her grab several times, but eventually did the same.

"White one, your turn!"

The white Fury carefully released a single paw, got a better hold with that one, and then did the same with her other paw, never fully letting go. "Done!"

That took a lot of the pressure off of them, though Ember was still heavy, and the flight still jerky and uncoordinated. Thorn flew anxiously nearby, visibly too weak to even think of helping but worried all the same.

"This is Ember?" Valka asked worriedly.

Beryl felt like groaning in frustration. He had known even as he had congratulated himself for cleverness that this particular evasion of the truth was going to cost him eventually. Now seemed to be the time.

"Where's Hiccup then?!" Valka asked frantically. "He must still be in the water!"

"He's safe and fine!" Beryl growled up at his passenger. "He was never on Ember's back." That should forestall questions.

"Then where is he?" Valka was not taking that as a full explanation.

"Storm," Beryl asked in a frustrated voice, "I am correct that Ember was not carrying a No-scaled-not-prey?" Storm didn't know the lie, did not even know him, but maybe if he phrased the question right...

"No, why would he be?" Storm huffed, as if it had been a stupid question.

Not a good answer. "See, he's not here, so he's probably fine," Beryl weakly warbled.

A cold hand poked Beryl in the back. "Something is not right here," Valka growled. "What is it?"

Beryl hung his head in shame. "I lied to you, though not very much. Hiccup is as safe as Ember is, and I can tell you the truth later when we are not carrying an unconscious dragon above the ocean."

"Ember is not very safe right now," Valka noted angrily.

"So we need to make sure he is," was Beryl's retort. "Spark, how far are we from the island?" Best to change the subject.

"You are asking me?" Spark continued as if he wasn't expecting an answer. "At the rate we are flying, an hour or so."

"Not good!" The white Fury whined. "He'll die of cold by then! He was soaked in freezing water and now we're dangling him in the cold air!"

Valka shifted. "I can warm his back if I jump down, but can you carry a little more weight?"

Beryl repeated the offer, though he didn't think it would do any good, but to his surprise the White Fury responded to Valka immediately.

"Not good enough! We need to set down somewhere now!" She was frantically looking around, presumably for somewhere to do so.

"There is a fairly wide sea stack to our left," Herb remarked from below. "That works."

Spark nodded, understanding. "Okay, I cannot see it," he admitted, "so guide us down!"

"Turn," Herb instructed carefully, "and keep turning to the left until I say stop."

It became very clear over several moments of struggling that four dragons lifting a Fury and therefore connected could not turn very well. Eventually, however, after many snarls of frustration from everyone involved, Herb said they were pointed the right way. After that, it was just a few minutes of slowly descending as they approached.

Herb finally yelled up that they were right over the sea stack, and everyone allowed themselves to descend... forgetting Herb was still below Ember. As a result, Herb had to drop and roll to avoid being pinned.

Beryl let go of his Sire's unconscious body and stood, waiting only until everyone had landed to issue the next set of orders. "Now everyone pile on!"

Body heat was all they had, given they would hurt Ember in flaming him directly, not to mention that they couldn't keep that up for long.

The white Fury practically dived on, snuggling up beside Ember even as everyone else did the same after a moment of hesitation, huddling around and in Thorn's case on top of him. Beryl sat on top of his Sire's tail, thinking as he did that to lose an entire tail to frostbite would be severely depressing, and one thing that might not grow back, even if individual tailfins did. Besides, he couldn't risk Valka, still on his back and still displeased, getting crushed or kicked by another Fury, which might happen if he sat too close to the others. Although that would delay his explanation...

"So," Spark began from his spot on Ember's outstretched wing, "that happened. Any idea why?"

Storm huffed angrily. "The idiot thought you all were dead, that is why!" She whined after a moment. "He told me you were all dead, and I believed him."

Beryl's heart froze for a moment. Ember had thought them dead. All of them. The only people he had left in the world. He couldn't imagine how that would feel, but his best guess was terrible.

"Why would he think that?" Herb asked anxiously. "Surely he would know we were just captured and sold."

"He told us he saw your cages loaded onto a ship, which was then sunk when one No-scaled-not-prey betrayed another," the white Fury supplied sadly. "He said he watched, but no dragon made it back to the surface."

"We were never on a ship that sunk," Spark said, his tone confused. He warbled happily. "So he must have seen other cages."

"He will be happy when he wakes up," Thorn noted. "Is he still..?"

"Still alive," the white Fury confirmed confidently. "I can feel him breathing from here, slowly but steadily."

"Good," Thorn relaxed, visibly loosening up. "And now that we have a moment, who are you? I do not believe we have been introduced."

The white Fury chuffed politely. "Pearl."

"I have not seen any dragon with that color before," Spark remarked curiously, his tail tapping Pearl, snaking over Ember's back to do so. "A white dark wing?"

"I am a light wing, or Light Fury if you prefer," Pearl confirmed self-consciously. "But there are quite a few of us, actually, all with the same general color."

Valka, who had been listening silently, spoke up at that. "Where? I have never seen your kind before."

"A secret place," Pearl replied. "I would say, but then Storm would know." That seemed to have some sort of hidden meaning Beryl could not decipher.

"You are going to take me with you," Storm growled threateningly.

"Yes, which is why I'm not letting you know," Pearl retorted slyly. "That way you cannot get impatient and go without me."

Beryl made the obvious assumption, but that did not feel right. Pearl had spoken as if it would be regrettable if Storm went alone, and their tones did not speak of such a light concept as finding Storm a mate among these many similar dragons. Something else was up.

A question for later. Especially as Valka was poking his back to get his attention. "Yes?"

"When are we going back for the Stormcutter?" Valka's voice was pained. "I can't leave him there!"

"I don't know how to free him," Beryl hummed sadly, "aside from killing the one who took him over, and I have no idea how to do that, or even what kind of dragon it was."

"You speak of the alpha who attempted to control our minds tonight?" Storm asked carefully.

"More than attempted," Beryl shuddered. "He took Thorn and another who did not come with us, but released them suddenly."

"Me," Pearl admitted quietly. "Sorry, Thorn. I didn't know that everyone would experience it, I just did whatever might drive him out."

Thorn stiffened, looking down at the Light Fury partially under her. "You?"

"She let it have a bad memory to drive it off," Storm muttered.

"So that was you," Thorn said in a tone of realization. "Oh," she whined, slipping down to wrap her wings around Pearl in an attempted hug. "You lived that?"

"My life is not one to be envied," Pearl admitted, looking up at Thorn in surprise at the gesture. "If that alpha ever tries again, I have more and worse to fend him off with, though he might not be so stupid as to look at anything I give him again."

"We will talk more when I can see your face," Thorn asserted, returning to Ember's back. "And Storm, you also saw it?"

"Everyone the alpha had control of at the time did, I guess." Storm shuddered. "I will be there for that talk. I have things to say too."

"That means the blue one who is not the one I wanted to kill did too," Herb noted.

"And the Stormcutter, but he did not snap out of anything," Spark said sadly.

Pearl whined. "Second saw it too?!"

Beryl, who had been listening in confusion, trying to piece all of this together, latched onto that. "Second? Was that the name of the blue Night Fury?"

"Yes, it is." Storm growled. "The brother of my true Sire." She was not looking at Herb, which was easy given Ember lay between them.

Herb sighed and said nothing.

There were a lot of issues to be worked out here, Beryl noted sadly. But at least they were all together to do so. "Valka, Ember might know of something to help. He is smart, and experienced in fighting such things, both mentally," Beryl thought of Ember's entire mental state of existence as he said that, "and physically. We took down a Queen together, just me and him. It can be done."

"When he wakes," Valka repeated suspiciously. "And you will tell me of your lie?"

"It may be better if he does so," Beryl hedged, not wanting to have that conversation. Let Ember explain. At least Valka was not mad at him. "Ember knows better than any the situation, and it is a complicated one to start with."

"Fine. I am not happy you lied," Valka said, quite unnecessarily in Beryl's opinion.

"Everyone, we should try to sleep," Herb announced suddenly. "We are still a bit close to that island for comfort." The mountain was visible in the distance. "As such, we should move Ember the rest of the way tomorrow morning, if he will not wake then."

"Why would he not?" Spark nudged the limp wing under him. "He is just asleep."

"He did have some issues with not waking up," Pearl added sadly. "And he slept for three days straight once. It might take a while."

Three days straight?! What in the world had happened there? Beryl yawned and resolved to get the full explanation later. For now, Herb was correct. They needed rest.

And so the odd pile of Night Furies drifted off to sleep. Ember may not have been aware of it, but all the family either side of him had left in the world was close nearby, hoping as they dreamed that he would return to them soon.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl did not know why she was unhappy. Ember would be beyond words when he awoke, whenever that was, and she should be happy for him. She was, she definitely was, but...

Maybe it was the events with that bad alpha. Those two words would be totally linked in her mind if it was not for the alpha who had helped diagnose Ember, as every other alpha Pearl knew of was terrible in some way. She did not feel sorry for hurting him with her memory.

She did, however, feel terrible for inadvertently sharing that memory with Storm and apparently Thorn. Not to mention Second and some random other dragon the No-scaled-not-prey had been worried for, but those two were less important, if only because Second was not a friend, and she did not know the other. She had accidentally hurt Thorn and Storm in a way that she could not stand.

So, when Pearl woke early, still snuggled up against Ember's broad chest, it was with an oddly heavy heart, given the circumstances. She participated in the moving of the still comatose Ember after a quick meal, but did so silently, not feeling like talking. No one else did either. It was almost as if they were waiting to share stories, waiting for Ember. He was the lynchpin in one half of the story, and the one who needed to hear the other half. So they spoke, but it was of little things, avoiding anything recent or important. As if a collective breath was being held.

The island the others had spoken of was a bright, grassy lump in the ocean, a place where swaying green made rolling hills look like waves, hiding only more grass between hills and in small valleys. It was beautiful, if desolate.

They awkwardly set Ember down in one such valley. He had not stirred a bit on the hours-long trip there, though it was midday by now, the sun shining above, not granting warmth, but at least giving a cold light to the world. Winter still held on, though Pearl wondered if it would ever break here. She had only known this part of the world in Winter, to the point where she was surprised this island was devoid of snow.

Thorn took charge once they had set down. "Beryl, Spark, Herb, watch him and make sure he does not get cold." It was not windy in the valley they had set him down in, but the air was still cold. "Valka, I am told you understand."

To the surprise of all who had not seen it yet, Valka responded with her staff and her humming, managing an actual voice with the unrelated sounds. "Yes, and I speak."

That was a new thing, and one Pearl could not see in any other light than purely good and amazing. One solely positive thing, among all of these mixed feelings and grey areas.

"Can you watch him?" Thorn looked over at Pearl and then at Storm. "We have something personal to discuss, the three of us."

"I can," Valka nodded as she swung her staff. "I know sickness." With that she began to look Ember over, poking and prodding gently at his chest.

"Good. Follow me, both of you," Thorn gently commanded, and walked over the hills and through the valleys, crossing the small island. She stopped in another such valley, far from Ember and the others. A place of privacy, as long as they did not converse in roars and yells.

Pearl followed nervously, unsure as to what Thorn intended, though the gentle way the older dragon spoke to her made it unlikely that it would be bad. Storm followed behind, curiously silent. Thorn turned to face the two of them, and Storm stepped to stand at odds to both of them. They all settled down like that, through some unspoken agreement, three points of a triangle, looking inwards.

Thorn began quietly. "Thank you, Pearl, for what you did."

That was not what Pearl had been expecting. She jolted in surprise as Storm seconded that thanks. "But it hurt both of you! And in a way I want no one to ever be hurt." It had hurt her so badly, emotionally and physically, and yet they were thanking her for being forced to recall it when it was not even their burden to carry?

"I do not know what you remember," Storm supplied, "but while it was terrible, it is fading from my mind even now. You have not burdened me with it permanently, though I doubt I will ever forget entirely."

"And I know that feeling already," Thorn added sadly. "You showed me almost nothing I do not already know and carry with me."

"Almost?" Pearl asked, morbidly curious. She had heard Thorn's story, told by Storm.

"The feeling of one's loved ones sanctioning such a terrible thing is not one I knew," Thorn admitted. "That too was part of what you gave us in the memory. I felt that and the event itself."

"I know it all too well," Pearl admitted.

"We will be avenging her, Dam," Storm supplied with a snarl, soft and terrible. "She will go back, and I will back her up."

"We will speak of that," Thorn cut in sternly, "but now is not the time to think of restitution and vengeance."

What? That was what would make her feel better, or at least, Pearl hoped it would help the memories fade in time.

Thorn rose. "Now," she said sternly, "is time to show understanding and comfort." With that, she sat down again, now directly in front of Pearl, less than a claw's length away. "I understand what you went through, in part." She stuck her head out and nuzzled Pearl tenderly. "It was not right."

"I know," Pearl agreed, surprised.

"I do not know the whole story, but from what I could tell, some part of you probably believes you deserved it," Thorn whined softly, still close.

Pearl wanted to argue that, but some small part of her wasn't letting her speak. That exact piece of herself that whispered that Dams knew best, that she must have deserved it, or that it was best, no matter how terrible. The one Thorn had somehow pinpointed.

"It was her Dam," Storm growled helpfully. "Apparently, she was the one driving it, and her Sire stayed away."

Thorn flinched. "Then," she said slowly, "I can tell you honestly that no Dam worth anything would have done that." She shuffled a bit closer and set her head on top of Pearl's, a gesture of consolation. "As a Dam, I say that was horribly wrong."

Those words cracked something inside Pearl, a barrier she held for her own peace of mind. "But she did it anyway, and she was happy with it all!" It was a sad whine.

"I cannot say I understand her," Thorn admitted. "And maybe some twisted part of her thought it really was good. But you must know that it is her fault, not yours."

Another crack. "I didn't argue. I did as told, even when I didn't want to." Storm had brought that to Pearl's attention, and it was true. She did deserve all she got, for she had not objected.

"You did as told, and were not allowed to argue," Thorn countered softly. "Were you allowed to object? To state your own opinion?"

"No," Pearl whispered.

"Then you were raised without a choice." Thorn snarled, right in Pearl's ear, though the sound was soft enough that it did not hurt even at that range. "None of the blame for that is yours."

That barrier inside Pearl shattered, and she keened softly. "Then why did she do it? Why?"

"I do not know, I only know it was wrong," Thorn soothed. "I understand your side of this, and that is enough to know you were the innocent one, the victim. Never think otherwise, even if it means blaming the one who should have looked out for you."

Storm moved closer, sitting beside Pearl. "Thorn would never do anything like that. She would die before letting it happen." The words were sure, confident, audible over Pearl's keening. "She is what a Dam should be. Yours does not deserve the title."

That helped, a little, though it hurt at the same time. "I did nothing to deserve it."

Admitting that also hurt, in a strange way, for it meant letting go of any shred of reason Pearl had clung to that her Dam might actually have been acting justly, all that time.

"Nothing," Thorn soothed, tenderly licking Pearl on the forehead. "You are still a daughter, but she is not your Dam, not if you do not accept that she was just and right in what she did."

"She is my Dam, as she," Pearl faltered, searching for the reason she knew for fact, "she laid my egg." It felt hollow even as she said it.

"So?" Storm challenged. "That monster who attacked Thorn was never my Sire, though he contributed to bringing me into the world. Dams and Sires are the ones who care for you, which neither of yours did."

"Then I have neither," Pearl admitted after a moment, beginning to truly believe the kind but firm words of Storm and Thorn, no matter how it hurt. "I have no one."

Storm chuckled sadly. "As you are still trying to get close to Ember despite me telling you not to, I would say you are working to change that." There was no real frustration in her voice at that.

Thorn chuffed, nuzzling Pearl again. "I will take up your Dam's neglected responsibilities if you like, though I am too late to help you when you needed it most."

That made Storm laugh. "A good thing you are willing, as she is trying to get to know Ember." That was said suggestively and approvingly. "It is fun to watch now that I have set her on the right path, but she is serious, and if he ever notices, he might return that affection."

Thorn remained silent as she digested that. "Can he? He is hurt by the loss of his first mate, I recall."

"He had better," Storm growled in response. "And if he cannot, she can always get to know one of his sons."

Pearl barked in shock. "What?" The very idea felt wrong, even though Beryl and Spark were closer to her own age.

"Kidding," Storm laughed. "But are you going to leave my Dam's offer hanging?"

Pearl flinched. Something felt wrong. "No, of course not. If she wants to, that is fine." Her voice was flat.

There was a moment of suddenly uneasy silence.

"Pearl?" Storm sounded troubled. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," Pearl lied. What was wrong? She really didn't know, but something was.

Thorn leaned back, staring intently. "Tell us."

A command. "I don't know!" Pearl admitted, her voice pained. Why did she feel so hopeless? Everything was good, Thorn was being kind, she knew what was best-

That had to be it, somehow. Pearl was grateful for the offer, but she really did not want anyone to take over for her Dam. She had thrown her Dam off, and now Thorn wanted to take her place. Benevolently, but still…

She needed to say something. They knew something was wrong; they would understand… but she could not speak. She found herself shaking her head numbly, denying that anything was amiss.

It was a strange, impromptu struggle Pearl now faced, her newly-developed will, the spine Storm had so lightly referred to, against some inbred submissiveness rising from a dark place in her mind, a place she had tried to purge in those months in a cage after being taken from her home.

But she was not alone.

"Pearl, look at me," Storm requested carefully. "You are fine. What is wrong?"

She was fine… she would be fine… "I…" she inhaled, forcing herself to continue. "Thorn, please don't take this the wrong way… but… I don't want another Dam. At all."

Thorn blinked, nonplussed. "Is that it? I am not offended. A friend, then?" She tilted her head, seeming to understand something. "One you are not obliged to obey or listen to at all if you do not want to."

"Yes…" she gasped, shaking from relief. That was better. "That is good."

"Then I am happy to call you a friend," Thorn purred comfortingly.

"And you are okay with me... pursuing... your son?" Pearl asked hesitantly. Thorn was not her Dam, but she was Ember's Dam.

"If he can love you in return, go for it. I would like to see him and you happy. But if he cannot, you will remain with us, and we will find you another, no matter how long it takes, if you want." Thorn cast Storm a glance. "Some of us are experienced in that search, and safety seems to fly with groups."

"I must go back to my pack to at least try and fix their customs," Pearl objected. "But... I will return, no matter how that goes."

"Good." Thorn pulled back a little to look Pearl in the eye. "I know some little of how that might go. What is your plan?"

"I'm not sure," Pearl admitted, glancing at Storm, "but I'll come up with something." Something, anything better and less cruel that Storm's fallback plan.

"Herb and I fled a situation of similar nature, bad customs twisting things," Thorn confided slowly. "I do not know if anything we did or said could have changed their minds. They did not see anything wrong with how things worked, and truly believed it best."

"Maybe my pack is the same, but I have to try." Pearl shook her head in defiance of that idea. "As soon as we are all good here." Whatever that meant. She would know when the time came.

"You mean, as soon as you have figured out Ember, and no one is in danger and needing to be rescued," Storm corrected in amusement.

"Or when he makes it clear he cannot or will not return my feelings," Pearl admitted sadly. "I will return, but that would be a good reason to go off on a journey. Distance might help that rejection not hurt so much." That idea was new, but she definitely did not want to leave these dragons permanently, now that she thought about it. They were far better than being alone or among her old pack. If they wanted her around, she would gladly take them up on that.

"It might," Thorn agreed pragmatically. "But do not take no for an answer right away. Ember has been stubborn in the past, even to his own regret later." She spoke deliberately, staring at Storm. "It is a family trait."

"I know that," Pearl muttered. Storm's refusal to even consider forgiving Ember when he needed exactly that came to mind.

"You say that with such vehemence," Thorn noted. "Storm, what did you do?"

Storm tilted her head, apparently thinking about it. As the moments passed, it became clear she was stalling.

"Storm?" Thorn chuckled knowingly. "It cannot be that bad, surely, but now I am curious."

"Well…" Storm began reluctantly, "I was a little out of sorts…" She trailed off into awkward silence.

"Storm." Thorn began to look disapproving. "You do not soften what you say, so you say nothing instead. I know you, daughter. Speak."

"I… I was pretty horrible," Storm admitted sourly, glaring into the distance, as if trying to avoid looking directly at either of them. "Pearl had to care for Ember without help at first because I did not care about him, and I was not good towards her either."

That was all true, though none of it was really stubbornness. It was almost impressive that Storm could be that frank in admitting her own wrongdoing to her Dam.

Thorn did not find it so impressive. "He had just saved you, but you could not be bothered to stir a claw in return?" Her voice was almost disbelieving.

"He told me you were dead and that it was his fault!" Storm objected. "Anyone would resent him after that!"

"Again with the grudges, daughter," Thorn sighed. "When will you learn to forgive?"

Storm hunched over and avoided her Dam's gaze. "I need a little more time, Dam."

"Maybe," Thorn growled, "or maybe you will not let yourself admit you have taken too much time. Do as you think best, but do not let reluctance rule. Herb hurts still, and it is cruel to make him wait."

They lapsed into silence, each with their own thoughts. The wind swept over the grass, caressing Pearl's scales with its cold touch.

"Thorn?" Pearl asked after a while.

"Yes?"

"How did you know?" She was referring to how Thorn had hit directly upon Pearl's buried issues, the contradiction that led her to blame herself, to some degree, for everything, in order to not condemn the ones who had raised her. The ones she herself had not acknowledged. Thorn had so little to go off of, but she had somehow made the exact leaps of logic necessary.

"Let us just say I know the feeling, and I know having parents who do bad things," Thorn growled. "It did not take too much evidence to put them together in your situation. Seeing things from your perspective, in a moment when only the most heartfelt emotions would be distinguishable, however terrible, was a large hint."

"But why did you help?" She was grateful, to be sure, but why?

"You were hurt, and I could. That is all the reason one should ever need," Thorn hummed soothingly.

This moment, peaceful, finally healing wounds in her heart she had not known festered, was a good one. Pearl found herself purring quietly, listening to the swishing of the grass. The sun did not feel so cold after all. She could feel a hint of warmth. Maybe Winter would not last forever here.

O-O-O-O-O

"He is healthy," Valka announced after a few minutes of clambering over Ember, listening at his chest, poking various places, and other such things, half of which Beryl did not see the point of. She spoke with her staff and vocalizations, for Herb and Spark's benefit. "Though he is the most scarred of all of you."

"Blame Vithvarandi," Beryl said without forethought, "as she caused all but the oldest of those." He winced as Valka stared at him.

"And who, exactly, can cut like a Nadder," Valka traced a scar on Ember's wing, "while also burning like a Monstrous Nightmare," another, more general paling of skin between scale on Ember's paws, "all while stabbing as only a Whispering Death can?" Puncture scars with ragged outlines.

"Vithvarandi could," Beryl growled. "Ember will tell you of her too."

"Some type of dragon I do not know?" Valka asked persistently.

"No, and yes. But mostly no." Vithvarandi was No-scaled-not-prey in the very end and had been No-scaled-not-prey in the beginning, it seemed. "Ember will explain."

"Because you cannot, or because you are too embarrassed to?" Valka was observant today. Beryl wished she was not.

"Because he is best suited to it, and you will understand why once he has spoken." Ember was not going to be happy with Beryl for this. Better his Sire than Valka, all in all, given Ember was going to be happy in general, which might offset the annoyance and awkward conversation Beryl was passing on to him.

"Fine," Valka huffed. "But you have lied to me, and that aggravates me."

"How can I make it up to you?" Beryl offered. Anything to rid himself of the lingering guilt.

"Let me look at you closely," Valka said immediately, "as I am hesitant to examine a dragon as I would without their permission, and your kind is new to me."

"How closely?" Beryl asked nervously. If Valka felt the need to ask permission, it might be too close for comfort.

"Not that closely," Valka laughed at his shying away from her as she approached, "but it might be uncomfortable when I look into your mouth and other such things."

"Curiosity is a strange thing," Beryl huffed. "Fine."

"Spread your wings," Valka ordered. She tapped at Beryl's wing joints when he did, muttering to herself.

What followed was an almost humiliatingly thorough inspection, though to Beryl's relief Valka passed over certain areas without comment or investigation. That would just be wrong. Still, she even stuck her head into his mouth to get a better look at his teeth! Now he knew why she asked permission first, and considered his willingness enough to cancel a debt he owed. It was humiliating, he decided as Spark and Herb watched in alternating astonishment and amusement.

A good moment occurred near the end when Valka was standing on his back and tapping at his spines methodically. That felt painful in a way he did not recognize.

He could not hold his silence after a particularly powerful twinge. "What are you doing?"

Valka sighed. "I have seen spines like this before, and I thought maybe yours split like the ones on other dragons do. But they don't seem to separate."

Beryl translated her spoken voice for Herb and Spark out of habit. He wasn't expecting a reply.

Herb chuffed. "Ember never unlocked that?" He walked over and stuck out a claw at the base of Beryl's neck. "It is a thing one does when one's fledgling becomes an adult." He pressed and twisted.

Beryl barked in surprise as what felt like an incredibly knotted muscle unwound. He flexed it curiously.

Valka laughed from up on his back. "There you go!"

Twisting his head around, Beryl could see his spines splitting and closing as he flexed. "Oh, cool!"

Spark bounded forward. "Me next!"

"I guess Ember wasn't around when you two became adults," Herb mused as he did the same for Spark. "Now is as good a time as any."

Spark spent the remainder of the time Valka was inspecting Beryl clapping his spines, entirely fascinated. Beryl had to stop himself from doing the same, aware of just how silly it looked thanks to Spark.

Still, it was good. He wanted to show Ember, and maybe tease him about forgetting. If only he would wake up.

Time passed. The females came back from whatever they had gone off to do, and Beryl noted that Pearl seemed far happier than before, if a bit more subdued, while Storm looked troubled. He wouldn't ask.

They all gathered around Ember after a while. Valka asserted again that Ember was healthy and just sleeping.

Pearl shifted. "I could try to wake him?"

"Why you?" Spark asked curiously.

"I was in charge of waking him up before when he would sleep more than he should," she explained, "and I know what does it best."

Beryl was all for that. He just wanted Ember awake to complete this strange reunion.

_**Author's Note: A fun fact: Ember is corrupting the language of dragons!** _

**I'm exaggerating, but you'll notice the terms Light Fury and Night Fury being used by dragons, those who know Ember. He uses them sometimes, because they are directly translatable from one language to another, and thus does so without thought, and everyone else picked them up. Blame him for that.**


	22. Thaw

**_Author's Note:_ For the record, this chapter was partially rewritten a week or so after the last chapter of this story was posted. It definitely needed the rewrite for emotional impact. A big thanks to Deadly-Bagel, who helped immensely in making this reunion less stiff and boring.**

Darkness, the warm comfort of sleep. Floating in a mercifully empty, peaceful void.

Ember only became aware of how peaceful his slumber had been once it was no longer peaceful. He snorted compulsively as wet, sticky saliva invaded his nostrils.

Then another, larger glob joined forces with the first and blocked his nose entirely as Pearl licked him again. That was the end of any attempt to cling to sleep. He snorted and coughed feebly, resorting to pawing at his face in an attempt to rid himself of the annoyance.

Ember groaned, shifting to lie on his feet in an attempt to avoid further wake-up licks. Why was Pearl waking him? He felt so sore and tired; there was no way he had overslept.

"Finally!" Pearl's voice rang in his ears and a blurry white figure leaped back from him, then crouched low and crept forward again. "Though, maybe one more time to be sure…"

"No," Ember groaned, hiding his nose under his paw. The word set off something deep in his chest, and he abruptly found himself coughing up water. "Wha-?"

"Oh, I didn't think you had inhaled any of that," she remarked gently, as if her words were reassuring, which they most definitely were not. "Your head barely went below the surface before we got to you."

"What was I… doing in the water?" His thoughts refused to form; he had no idea where he was or how he'd got there. His sight, on the other hand, was beginning to clear, and… there were far too many faces looking at him. Was this why she had woken him? He fought his stiff body to shake his head, then took several long and slow blinks to clear his eyes as he gingerly shuffled into a more dignified posture.

"Sire?"

That was impossible. Ember froze, struggling with his addled mind. He could not have heard that sweet, innocent voice, because such a voice only belonged to one dragon, one long gone.

"He might need another wake-up lick," another, deeper and more worldly voice suggested in amusement, mature beyond its years and just as impossible as the first. Ember _knew_ that voice, but he also knew he could not be hearing it.

Ember blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what his eyes were refusing to properly see. Was he hallucinating, hearing and seeing things that were not there? Those two blurs, the black and the gold, were just as impossible as the voices he would otherwise attribute to them. He could do no more than stare dumbly, unable to comprehend what his senses were trying to tell him was happening. It wasn't possible.

"Maybe I should," Pearl mused seriously. "That blank look is worrying. Like he is asleep in mind, if not body."

Pearl heard the voices. She was the white blur off to the side, the one leaning in to lick him again. Ember's addled mind latched onto that, seizing the proof it offered. Pearl was real, and she was hearing what he thought might not be real, so this _was_ real after all, it was all real-

A long, low whine left his tightening chest, and then he clawed his way forward and lunged at his nearest son. Beryl took an uncertain step back, but Ember latched onto his leg and pulled him to the ground to lick and nuzzle into his shoulder, purring and whining uncontrollably as he grappled him and breathed his scent. Moving was excruciating, and each time his tail thumped against the ground a lance of blinding pain shot up his spine, but his senses needed proof that this was real and the more he felt the more real it became and the more he needed to feel.

"Are you hurt, Sire? You are whining." Spark's golden scales appeared in the corner of his vision, above him, and Ember hooked a paw under his chest and rolled him over into a pin to needily chew his shoulders and lick his face. "Ack! Someone help!"

"You should not be moving yet." Thorn's motherly concern warmed another part of him that had been cold and numb for far too long. She was here too. She was not dead. None of them were.

"Then come here," he rasped through his purring, and she leaped over before his impatience could take him to her. Herb followed, and Ember allowed Spark to escape to usher his Sire and Dam under his wings, pulling them to his sides and furiously nuzzling them. He appreciated being able to lay still again, as his tail still felt as if it was about to fall off, but he had neither the will nor the desire to stop it from merrily beating the ground.

Beryl padded around in front of him and settled onto his chest to offer a warm and happy nuzzle. He received several impatient licks in response. "Ember," he warbled gently, shuffling aside to let Spark join the huddle, "Storm told us…"

"I thought you were dead," Ember moaned, slowly leaning forward as he spoke, and in the end burying his head under his paws. "I saw you all die. I… I wanted to die, after that." Someone wedged their way under his neck and lifted his head, and he was too weak to fight it. "I nearly d-did," he whimpered, the admission forcing all that grief to the surface again to layer into a fierce and crippling guilt. It was sinking in just how close he'd come to never being reunited with his family.

"We wouldn't have wanted that," Herb rumbled sternly.

"I- I know, but, I coul- could-n't, I'm sorry S-Si-re," he whimpered brokenly, ashamed of his failures and of falling apart like this in front of his sons, but they wouldn't let him hide his face in his paws again. He settled for Thorn's shoulder, where he was only mostly successful in suppressing his grieved whines.

His Dam's warm purrs vibrated through his head as she tenderly nuzzled him behind his frills. "It is okay, let it all out," she hummed. He might have entirely taken her advice if his sons weren't there too, but sending them away was the last thing he was about to do. He took several deep, slow breaths to steady himself, savoring her warm and familiar smell. "You did not, and that is what matters," she said confidently.

"…Yes, that is the main thing," Herb purred as he straightened.

Ember tried to stretch his wings a moment later, hoping to put them out over everyone around him but winced as a muscle in his back spasmed. A small gasp of surprise and discomfort forced its way out of him.

"Sire? You sound like you are in pain," Spark warbled.

"Yes, quite a lot," Ember admitted, nuzzling his older son a bit more placidly. "I feel as though I slept with a Gronckle sat on me." He barked as Thorn cuffed him with the wrist of her wing, though she had not hit hard enough to hurt him. "What was that for?" She didn't answer, but everyone else shuffled a little awkwardly. "I'm confused."

"It does not matter," Herb purred into his side. "We are all safe now."

"Speaking of…" Ember nipped his son's ears and bumped Herb and Thorn with his wings. "That's for letting yourselves get caught! You can fly, how did they even get close!?"

"They snuck up on us," Spark whined, rubbing his ear.

"Four Night Furies got surprised in the middle of the ocean by some idiot hunters. Our kind is supposed to be the most dangerous!" He playfully pawed at Spark, who looked like he was regretting speaking up.

"They got Thorn first," Beryl interjected, joining in the lazy play-fight. "We couldn't just leave her."

"I'm sure there's nothing you could have done," Ember warbled in mock-condescension, then ducked from a more serious swipe and instantly regretting moving so quickly.

Herb nodded with an authoritative purr. "We were careless. But so were you, to not check that we were actually in those cages."

"I tried!" Ember retorted, suddenly on the defensive. "I… got caught."

"I'm sure there's nothing you could have done," Beryl mocked him back, then ducked a firm swipe himself.

"We all got caught, then," Thorn concluded, her voice laced with amusement. "We will not assign blame. Just bad luck."

Ember nodded, thinking back to the fruitless searching of records to be interrupted right before finding what he needed. "Very bad luck." He tried to spread his wings again, pushed through the discomfort in his back, and curled his wings around to pull everyone in close, reveling in being surrounded by the purrs of his family. "It is… really good to see you all again. I was so close…"

"It would have been really bad for us to never find you," Spark added innocently.

"One does not expect to be found by the dead. But I know now you are not. I'm never letting myself go down that path again."

"Good," Beryl growled. "We'll hold you to that."

"I would hope so," Ember purred. "Still, it all ended well."

"If you ignore that you almost died over it," Thorn scolded lightly, then resumed purring. "But you did not. That is all that matters. That you carried on."

Ember shook his head. "But... I didn't. I just kept finding one last thing that needed to be done."

"And what do you think moving on is?" she asked gently. "Finding something to keep yourself occupied, over and over."

"Someone, in most cases," he said quietly, then stretched once more and attempted to stand. As much as he wanted to stay here with his family all day… they weren't going anywhere, and there were things tugging at him that he needed to address.

Ember looked over to the side, searching with his eyes for Pearl, and saw her standing a few paces away, watching uncertainly from afar. Storm was with her, and to a little further back a human woman Ember didn't recognize was also watching. That was a puzzle he could unravel in a moment.

Ember carefully tucked his wings in, tried and failed to stop his tail dragging along the ground, and stiffly padded around to Pearl to embrace her. "Thank you, for keeping me alive," he purred.

Pearl laughed nervously, her wings half-raised as if she was unsure of what to do. "I knew you'd thank me eventually."

Then he turned to Storm, who was watching with an odd, half-satisfied look. "I-"

"Save it," Storm growled. "You made me think they were dead."

He bowed his head. "Is it any consolation that I believed so at the time?"

"Some." Storm closed her eyes, refusing to look at him. "Did I ever thank you for saving me from those No-scaled-not-prey and Second?"

"...No?" He couldn't recall it, or Storm thanking anyone for anything, for that matter.

She growled softly. "I keep doing this, over and over again…"

"What?" He felt like he was missing something.

"Nothing," Storm clarified, opening her eyes and looking directly at him. "Thank you. For everything. I do not blame you for getting Sire and Dam killed." The way she said it, she understood how that sounded, but considered it important anyway.

"Okay." He rumbled curiously. "Did I miss something? You do not really… apologize. For anything." And maybe it was his still very much jumbled emotional state, but he thought he heard genuine regret in her voice.

"I am working on that, but it is hard." She moved closer, her voice dropping so that no one could have any chance of overhearing. "Keep a secret?"

"From everyone?"

"Everyone," she confirmed. "They do not need to know, but I owe it to you."

"Yes." He was curious now.

"I think I would not forgive you because I knew, deep down, that if it was not your fault then it was mine," she whispered seriously. "Blaming you let me not blame myself. Does that make sense?"

"Yes…" that was all well and good, but why did she want it to be their secret?

"Good." She pulled back, raising her voice. "I am going to try to be better, but l will still be a jerk. It is kind of who I am, apparently."

"Who you are…" he repeated, unsure how to respond to that.

"Sorry, not sorry… for some of it, anyway." Storm winced. "We have gone over that."

"I get it," Ember said. "Second got the brunt of your attitude in any case." He noticed a shift out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at the single oddity in this impossible, perfect reunion. "And… this is…?" he asked, gesturing to the human woman.

"Valka," the stranger said tersely, surprising him with her understanding. There was something familiar about the name as well. "You understand my words?" Ember nodded. "Good. I am told you can tell me about Hiccup."

He shot Beryl an accusing glance. "What do you want with him?"

"I'm his mother."

Ember couldn't help it. He laughed. What was one more impossibility? One more way to make this even more of a reunion than it already was?

Valka bristled at his reaction but kept her composure. "Your son told me some, but that it was a lie. Nobody will tell me where he is, I need to know and right now you of all people should understand that!"

He winced at her words; she had a point. "Fair. But… the answer is not a simple one, and on my life he is safe." Beryl snorted in amusement at that, but thankfully Valka didn't seem to notice. "Give me some time with my family first? You of all people should understand that." Turning those words on her was perhaps a bit harsh, but she'd waited twenty years to seek him out. She could wait a little longer.

"I do not see how it could be complicated, but very well. Soon, though. Please."

Ember nodded, then headbutted Beryl as hard as his aching body allowed. "Thank you for leaving me with that, by the way."

"I didn't know how to explain," Beryl warbled apologetically. "I told her you and Hiccup were very close friends. She was okay with the lie until we found you… like we did, and Storm didn't know what I was trying to keep her believing."

"You did not tell me I was supposed to lie and say there was a No-scaled-not-prey waiting for us somewhere!" Storm objected. "And you are my... nephew..." she seemed stunned by that realization, though it had taken her long enough to make the connection, "so I should be mad at you for lying!" She glanced at Thorn. "Right?"

Thorn hummed thoughtfully. "I think you would make a better fun relative than a stern one," she commented. "Next time, back him up."

Ember felt his jaw fall at that. "No, don't do that!" He didn't want to imagine what Storm, Beryl and probably Spark could do if Storm took to heart the idea that she should be the 'fun aunt' and encouraged them.

"So..." Storm looked from Thorn to Ember, and back again. "Fun it is!"

Ember wilted. "I order both of you," he mock-glared at Beryl and Spark, "to not do anything she suggests without asking me first."

"Unless it involves you not knowing, of course," Beryl said slyly, his tail waving in amusement.

"I will tell, Sire," Spark offered, completely fine with the mock-glare Beryl and Storm both cast his way.

"Good." Ember grinned wolfishly. "I'm holding you to that." Ah, internal politics. Since when did that phrase apply to his own family?

Beryl pounced on Spark, and the two play-fought, rolling through the grass, and out of sight as Spark accidentally pushed them over the crest of a rather steep hill. Two twin barks of surprise could be heard from out of sight.

Herb chuckled at that. "You have already gotten them hurt, Storm."

Storm flinched, not looking at Herb. Those words struck at her in a way that had not been intended.

Herb saw that. "Sorry, I did not intend that to come out the way it did."

"It is okay," Storm muttered. "I know." She still wasn't looking Herb in the eye.

That was an issue suddenly still relevant, now that Herb was around to be hurt by Storm's reluctance to forgive and forget. Ember growled, ready to lay into Storm for her stubbornness-

"Do not," Thorn cautioned. "She is going to come around soon, and you lecturing her will not help now." The words were plain and not at all quiet. Storm flinched again, and Herb huffed, not allowing himself to be hopeful.

Valka watched all of this impassively. She was waiting, it was clear.

Well, if Ember wanted to force Storm to face her issues and forgive, he could not justify waiting to do something similar himself. "Valka, now is a good time." He would have to face this sooner or later and knowing that he chose sooner.

O-O-O-O-O

They walked to the edge of the island, Ember personally thinking that if he screwed the explanation up badly enough he could always fall into the water and require saving again. That was a bad joke, and likely in poor taste, but as he was the one who had apparently been in mortal peril the last time, it was okay for him to make it, at least in his head.

This was not so difficult, in theory. Explain, get an explanation in kind from Valka, and laugh together about how life was strange, difficulties resolved. In theory, it was pretty easy.

In reality, he was coming down off of the seemingly boundless euphoria he had experienced, and this was looking more and more awkward every minute. As a side note, since when had being proven wrong felt so good? This had to be a record, and one he never wanted to be in a position to break, given what this mistake had almost cost.

Valka stood by the water, but her eyes were on him. "Spill it."

"Rude," Ember purred, his heart not in the teasing. He would not be purring at all if his heart was not permanently warmed by everything else that has just happened. This was going to be tense. "You might not like this at first."

"He is not dead, is he?" Valka asked fearfully.

"No..." Ember grimaced. Better to get this over with quickly. "More accurate to say that I am."

That logic went straight over Valka's head. "I get it," she huffed, "he's alive. No need to make a joke out of it."

"No," Ember shrugged. "I am dead. Or, I was dead."

"I just checked you for sickness earlier today," Valka noted in a disbelieving voice, her frown saying that she was getting fed up with what she perceived as lies. "You have a heartbeat. You are not dead."

"I was though, for ten years." He mentally prepared to shift. "So, meet Hiccup..."

He could not see her face while he shifted, so there was no clue as to how she was taking this.

"My other half," he finished weakly. "Or a bit less than half, as I'm not exactly whole." He shook his prosthetic leg, balancing on the other. "This part doesn't count."

Valka's mouth was hanging open, her entire body betraying shock. Ember supposed it was a pretty crazy idea, but he was so very tired of explaining, so he launched into the story without further hesitation, switching between forms as seemed appropriate. At some point, Valka closed her mouth and regained some semblance of composure.

By the time he had wound the story back around to finding Herb and Thorn, she was just staring at him. Not angrily, and not suspiciously.

"So that's that," Ember finished weakly, in his human form at the moment. "Nice to meet you. What's your story?"

Valka blinked, totally caught off-guard by his simple question. "I... I got carried off," she finished lamely.

"I don't believe you were in transit for sixteen years, so I assume there is more." Ember was totally fine with skipping the usual disbelieving questioning that often followed his explanations.

"I got carried off, and found out I was right." Valka laughed bitterly. "Everyone always told me I'd be taken and eaten if I didn't fight, so that was a bit of vindication right there."

"And..." He had gotten right to the heart of his own story. Let her do the same. "Why did you never come back? I get that you found a cause," which was pretty clear, though he did not know the specifics yet, "but why not make a trip back, if only to let us know you were still alive? Lots of Vikings go off on epic quests. You could have sold whatever you do as one of those." He had actually considered leaving Berk with Toothless before winning at dragon training with the same excuse. There was a reason he often referred to such quests as vacations in his own head. The justification for calling something a quest was very loose in Viking culture. It might have been a tough sell, but it wasn't out of the question.

"Stoick would have dropped everything to come with me if he could not convince me to stay," Valka replied angrily. "I thought about it, I really did, but you were better off moving on. I was likely to die at any time, doing what I do, and still am. This is dangerous work."

"So you just let us get a head start in mourning you," Ember finished bitterly. "I, for one, would have preferred to know, no matter how quickly you fell. And as it turns out, you didn't manage to get yourself killed before I found you, so now your logic kind of falls flat, doesn't it?"

"Look, I'm not proud of some of the decisions I've made," Valka said plaintively. "Can't you understand that some choices look terrible in retrospect, but feel right at the moment?"

Ember was forced to review some of his own choices. Shooting down Toothless. Cutting Toothless free, for that matter. Not to mention believing everything a creepy child said in some random village. All choices that, looked at in a vacuum, objectively, were bad decisions, though he would not take most of them back now. Yes, he understood that. It was hard to judge someone for the same mistake one was guilty of making in one's own life.

"Please?" Valka asked quietly, looking down. "Can we start over?"

"Yes, we can." Ember held out a hand. "I'm Ember. Nice to finally meet you, mom."

"Really?" Valka took the hand, but she looked at him askance as she did. "You go by that all the time?"

"I've lived with the name of Hiccup for fifteen years, and Ember for sixty, give or take. I know which I prefer." He shook his head sadly. "You must understand, we are the same person. The name Ember is just the one I pick for simplicity."

"Are you?" She really didn't sound sure. "I have no way to tell if the one I am talking to acts more like Hiccup or more like Ember."

"Join the club; only Beryl can see that because only Beryl knew both," he explained. "But really, I probably act more like Ember around dragons, and more like Hiccup around people. It would only make sense."

"But you have not been around people for quite a while, by your story…"

He sighed. "Yeah, true. That's just how things played out, and I don't really mind. I'd know if I was actually losing the balance, believe me."

"So the other side of you that is not needed-"

He had to cut off that misconception now. "I was not clear earlier. There are not two sides to me; rather, I am a mix of both, one person that is not fully either. If I went a thousand years without using my human form, I would not lose anything, and the same goes the other way. I have a balance that cannot be broken by concentrating more heavily on one side."

"And if I find that you act like a dragon in a human body?" Valka asked.

"Then I probably do," he agreed. "A mix, not switching between one or the other. Though I think being around you will probably get me in the right mindset to act more like I used to."

"So by that logic, you act a little more like a human than a dragon should?"

"Definitely." Not to mention that he did not feel his full age, even in the older body. He still felt at most twenty-something. That was probably some side effect of merging two people with such different ages. At least, with the way Night Furies aged, he would still be young and spry long enough that by the time he started to slow down, he would feel old. "And I probably act immature, too, even if I am technically sixty-something in my dragon body."

"So my own son is older than me," Valka realized, her face blank. "How odd."

"Wiser, too," Ember joked with a smile. "Definitely."

"Who invented a tool that let her talk to dragons?" Valka asked challengingly.

"Who needs one, when I am a dragon?" Ember shot back. "Besides, I can fly. Can you fly?"

"Fly away," Valka retorted. "I can fly with... my Stormcutter," she finished. "We need to get him back, and soon. As soon as possible."

"I don't know the situation." He didn't know what kind of dragon a Stormcutter was either, but that seemed less important.

"They told me to wait until you woke because you were good with making plans," Valka admitted, walking back towards the rest of the group. "So?"

"Let me find out what's up, and then we'll see." Ember shifted and tossed Valka onto his back, running full speed back to the group, not content to walk. "You wanted speed!" He called back as he ran.

O-O-O-O-O

"Okay, lay it all out," Ember requested. Everyone was present, they were all on the same page, and there was a problem to be solved. "As many details as we know."

"Stormcutter captive to Monster," Valka hummed and growled with her staff. That still amazed Ember... although he could also already see improvements he wanted to try. Maybe a metal version for himself, just in case? He could keep it with his human form like he did the knives. It might come in handy. Admitting the staff was cool enough to replicate might be a bit embarrassing after dismissing it earlier, but if he had to...

Back to the task at hand. "How?" That mountain was going to be tough to infiltrate right after a prisoner had been successfully rescued.

"Not by physical means," Beryl growled, "but mental."

Okay, that was very much worse than going back into the mountain. "Is this related to the weirdness Pearl and Storm felt last night?" It was last night, right? How long had he been asleep this time? Hopefully not three whole days.

"The very same," Pearl confirmed quietly. "I guess the Stormcutter was too far under for the shock I hit the alpha with to free him."

"That confuses me," Thorn asserted. "Second and I were under his waxing influence for days, but Pearl's... interference... got us out. Why would some random dragon who had just gotten there fall so quickly?"

"Actually, he said that." Spark elaborated as everyone stared at him, not at all phased by the sudden attention. "He said something about how it was weird that the Stormcutter was so easy to take, while I was not. Well, the Stormcutter said it, but it kind of was not really him?"

"He also said that Second was pretty easy and that Thorn was harder, but still doable," Beryl recalled. "Both at the exact same time, which was weird."

"Saying multiple things at once?" Storm exchanged a knowing look with Pearl and Ember. "That names the kind of dragon, at least, if we had no other proof." They knew only one dragon that could do things like that.

"Second said it was a Bewilderbeast, whatever that is," Thorn offered.

Valka froze. "No," she breathed in horror, forgetting to use her staff. "That cannot be."

"Massive, flightless water-dweller with mental powers?" Ember queried.

"Yes... but the alpha is the only one left!" Valka exclaimed. "Is it male or female?"

Thorn growled. "Male, definitely." No one questioned how she could be sure. Storm nodded in agreement. Maybe the tone of his mental voice?

"Too bad," Pearl said sadly. "The other alpha might have been able to coerce this one into giving up the Stormcutter if this one was female."

"He still could?" Spark offered. "I mean, I do not know the dragon, but would another dragon of the same kind have a good chance at persuading this new one?"

"Not a good idea," Valka interjected forcefully, still speaking normally. "The alpha has told me, in passing, that he is pretty sure a fight for dominance would occur if he ever encountered another male of his kind. He was speculating, but we cannot risk an entire nest losing their alpha... and then being taken by this new one."

That poked at something in Ember's mind. "Let me be sure. The Stormcutter fell immediately?"

Spark nodded. "The first weird pulse we felt took him, and he never got released."

"Thorn and Second fell to the second pulse, but were released by Pearl's actions?" Things were starting to fall into place. "And both of you had been fighting off his power for days."

Thorn warbled agreeably. "Correct, on both counts."

"Finally, Pearl and Storm were falling on the second pulse, but Pearl stopped it." It all fit, at least to Ember. "I did not feel it at all, and neither did Valka."

"Humans are much harder to do anything with mentally," Valka said confidently. "My alpha told me so."

There was only one outlier. "Beryl, why did you not fall to the effects?" If his theory was right, Beryl should have been as susceptible as Second or maybe even the Stormcutter, having been under mind control before, albeit from a different species.

"I felt it, but it was... off, in a way. That made it easy to ignore." Beryl growled. "What are you getting at, Sire? I feel like I am missing something."

Ember decided to lay out his theory, which had become even more specific with Beryl's explanation. "The most susceptible was the Stormcutter, who has served another alpha of the same kind for season-cycles. Then Second and Thorn, whom this new Bewilderbeast had much time to work on. Then Storm and Pearl," and here was the big piece, the bit of evidence that most supported his theory, "who spoke with the other Bewilderbeast before we came to the mountain. I did too, but I was in No-scaled-not-prey form last night, which explains why Valka and I did not even feel it, weak and undirected as it was. Herb, Beryl, and Spark having no mental contact with any of this kind of dragon were most able to fight it off." He purred victoriously, now certain of his conclusions. "Any prior contact with one of the same kind makes it easier for others to find and attempt to control you."

"Even just talking mentally?" Storm asked. "He did not do anything else with my mind."

"That you know of," Pearl said slyly. "Ember, did you ask him to look into Storm's mind while we spoke?"

"No, I didn't." Why would he do that? "And he did not look into any..." Oh. That explained quite a few things. "Let me guess. You asked him to figure out what was wrong with me." Really, he was pretty dense to not have seen it sooner. The alpha had never flat-out denied looking, only in specifics scenarios.

Pearl squirmed uncomfortably, batting at her tail in seeming fascination with it, not meeting his eyes. "We were worried. I couldn't figure it out." Then she looked up, defiant. "I did what I had to. Besides, Storm had him look into my head too, and I had no more warning of it than you."

"You got a taste of your own medicine," Ember chuckled. "I suppose that is fair enough. But it supports my theory. Any contact, no matter how benign."

"So?" Valka asked abruptly. "We still need to save him. Somehow." Her tone was angry.

"We are all in agreement on that." Ember considered the massive dragon he had seen in the ice nest. "But we can't let anyone close to this new Bewilderbeast for long. Aside from that, Thorn, Pearl, and Storm are all too vulnerable. As am I, in dragon form. That leaves Spark, Herb, Beryl, Valka, and me as a No-scaled-not-prey. Three dragons and two No-scaled-not-prey against a massive water-dweller who can simply sit underwater and send the Stormcutter after us while he chips away at our mental defenses, permanently tearing them down." He had just gotten his family back; there was no way he was taking them into a situation that dangerous.

It was not a positive picture Ember painted. He could see the slowly fading enthusiasm in everyone's eyes as they comprehended just how impossibly unlikely it was that any direct attack their group could mount would work.

"Can we just knock the Stormcutter out and carry him out of range?" Spark asked.

"There is no range, once he has you," Valka said sadly. "Our alpha has tested it with willing volunteers, to see if an emergency summons would reach far enough away. There is no limit."

"The Queen had a limit," Beryl argued. "I was knocked out of it by Hiccup's bola."

"But the Queen is different. We have already determined that." Herb huffed. "So we have to kill this thing, but at the same time there is no way to do that."

"And we are not taking into account Drago." Thorn shook her head expressively. "Second says this Bewilderbeast follows him, and Drago has many No-scaled-not-prey and Second, though I do not understand him well enough to predict what he will do."

"Anything that Bewilderbeast wants," was Beryl's pragmatic reply. "He is undoubtedly as far under as the Stormcutter by now."

Ember was beginning, as difficulties piled up, to doubt himself. He could possibly take down the Bewilderbeast... if he had time, unlimited resources, and a few islands of Vikings. Machinery and maneuvering might do it, though he could not see a way. The Bewilderbeast was far too dangerous for any dragon to attack or even be around, save for in a desperate final measure, so if it fell, humans would probably have to be involved. The other alpha seemed to be out, as Valka would not risk the catastrophic consequences of the failure of that measure.

Maybe, if he was smarter, if he had time to prepare...

But... wasn't there someone who was smarter, who had already prepared? Someone who had struck at Drago already, who had a whole island ready to defend? Someone who took down dragons for a living, who worked solely with humans.

"Viggo," Ember breathed as a realization hit.

"Who?" Thorn asked warily.

"Wait, was that the name of the other No-scaled-not-prey who we were going to destroy?" Storm asked eagerly. "Can we still do that?"

"Ember, what are you thinking?" Valka shuddered. "Viggo Grimborn is not to be messed with. This entire situation is bad enough as it is without him involved."

"No, we need him," Ember argued back. "He's at least as smart as I am, more forewarned, ready to fight, and most importantly, clever and ruthless enough to take down an invading Bewilderbeast if the situation comes up. If he knows what's coming."

"But why would the Bewilderbeast bother?" Valka did not look convinced.

"He wouldn't, but with the right push..." Ember mused, "Drago would." Drago knew Viggo had moved against him if Krogan had taken Thorn to him and by extension informed Drago of Viggo's attempted strike.

"The right push." Beryl shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. "Ember, I am reminded of another time when I came up with a solution to a problem. You did not like the answer then, and you will not like it now."

"Speak." Ember could not see how he personally could push Drago, as Drago knew him and knew not to trust anything he said, as Krogan had proved Ember's words a lie.

"If a highly trusted soldier of Viggo's, one who is known as such, showed himself to Drago and taunted him here in the mountain, that might goad him into going on the offensive?"

Ember snarled softly. "I don't work like that, son. Using a form I took from Vithvarandi out of necessity is one thing. This is another entirely."

"If we need someone Viggo trusts," Valka smiled, "we might have a meeting with Ryker Grimborn in a few weeks. It will take almost that long just to get there, actually. But how would we persuade him to do that?"

"Beryl does not speak of persuasion," Ember growled, angry at the idea, not his son. "He speaks of me killing this man, taking his body, and taunting Drago myself."

Silence fell at those words.

Beryl whined. "I'm sorry, but it seemed like a good idea. If we chose Ryker, does he not deserve to die for what he is anyway? Any of us would kill a dragon hunter if they attacked us. How is this different?"

"I would be striking first, with the intent to use his death. Just like Vithvarandi."

"But for good cause," Herb said slowly. "It is not a good thing, but can it be sanctioned, if it is necessary?"

"I will not become her." Ember was adamant about that.

"You would not be like her," Spark warbled confidently. "She took bodies for herself. You would do this for someone else, to save them."

"And if you do not, we will have to figure out how to take this Bewilderbeast down," Pearl said sadly, "or we will have to abandon the Stormcutter, which I don't think is an option."

"It is not," Valka asserted firmly.

"Plus," Beryl added hesitantly, "this plan might take down Drago and Viggo in the process. They made all of this happen, and if we don't rid ourselves of them, who is to say it won't happen again?"

"To actually be rid of them both," Valka gasped, "would be more than I ever hoped to accomplish in my lifetime."

"So it's bad," Beryl concluded, "but worth doing?"

Ember truly considered all of that. Each individual reason on its own was not enough but stacked together like that, they began to look quite fair. A small evil done to hopefully destroy many larger evils. Could he target and take bodies of certain, admittedly deserving individuals, if it would accomplish such a massive goal?

"If you all agree that this is necessary," Ember began slowly, "then I can make myself do it. You are all good people, and if I cannot trust my own judgment here, I can think of no better group of people to ask for a second opinion." Spark, optimistic and pure. Beryl, realistic but good. Pearl, innocent in matters such as these. If those three could sanction this, there was no way it was any evil but a small, necessary one.

Besides which, this plan meant he was the only one really risking himself. That suited him just fine. He had only today gotten everyone back. There was no way he was risking losing them again.

"Yes." Spark nodded. "It is necessary." The rest of them readily agreed. The vote was unanimous. This small thing needed to be done.

"Then I'll do it," Ember agreed. "Only for this cause. I will not make a habit of it, and once all of this is over I'll rid myself of all extra forms, just as before."

"If you didn't, then we'd be worried." Beryl chuffed agreeably. "So, it seems we have a meeting to get to."

"I wasn't kidding about us barely making it," Valka said somewhat urgently. "If we leave now, we'll get there only a day or so before Ryker should."

"Did you plan on actually giving him soldiers?" Beryl warbled curiously.

"What soldiers? The Collector's forces are gone. I just hired men." Valka laughed. "Ryker is a blight on the world, just as his brother is. It will be good to be rid of him."

"You know," Storm said as they prepared to set off, grabbing a quick meal first, "The next month or so is going to be really boring."

"How so?" Pearl asked, watching the water.

"We will just be flying to an island, killing one No-scaled-not-prey, and then flying right back here... to wait while Ember messes with Drago." Storm huffed. "Then we get to wait while Drago rallies his forces and sails... slowly... to Viggo's island, the place I was sold. Then maybe something will happen."

"That is a lot of waiting," Ember agreed. "For you. For me, it's not going to be quite that easy." Hopefully, all of that went as planned.

_**Author's Note:** _ **The name of this chapter has several meanings, one of which was not originally intended when written. Let me just say that when looking back, that will make more sense.**

**Also, for one reader who was anticipating quite a bit of fallout from everyone finding out that Storm was deliberately withholding forgiveness when Ember might have needed it to have any reason to keep living… sorry, Ember accidentally prevented all of that by citing Storm's help and changing the subject. He** _**meant** _ **that searching out and rescuing Storm kept him alive, not that she actually intentionally helped him at any time after, but nobody else except Storm and Pearl (and possibly Thorn) had the full context to understand that important distinction, and Ember isn't the kind of person to follow up on it later now that Storm has said she'll try to be better.**

**Storm did get lucky there, because your guesses as to how thoroughly unhappy everyone would be with her were pretty on the nose. (Also, I didn't want to darken what was supposed to be a mostly upbeat chapter with a huge outcry over all of that.)**

**As for Storm getting her just desserts for past actions, as you so put it? I promise nothing, but I will point out that this story, and her development, are not yet finished.**


	23. Taunt

The plan, as Storm had pointed out to Pearl, did involve a lot of traveling and a lot of waiting for most of the group. That did not bother anyone except possibly Valka. She seemed anxious to save her best friend, which was entirely understandable. It did make her moody at times.

The rest of them passed the time of flight easily, sharing stories and bringing everyone up to date. That was not an entirely happy process, given how dark most of their experiences were. It seemed everyone had been a prisoner at some point in the last month or so. Thorn in particular had spent the entire interval in some sort of cage, while Pearl and Storm had spent literal months as captives.

Still, it was a lot of time to go over, from many perspectives, though Pearl did not speak very often, mostly listening, which Ember thought was odd. They easily passed the time to the meeting point that way, talking in flight and going right to sleep when they landed at sundown on some convenient landmass. It was cold, but no longer snowing, and things were beginning to be slightly less frozen. Or maybe that was just Ember's imagination overflowing with enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm he could not seem to shake and did not want to. The knowledge that Beryl and company were still alive had thawed the terrible cold around his heart, and he never wanted to feel that way again. It was very hard to not be as optimistic as Spark now. That optimism and enthusiasm for life overflowed into many aerial games of tag with his sons, Storm when the mood struck her, and Thorn when she wanted to regain strength and stamina. Everyone else joined in randomly, though one of them usually abstained from the frantic flipping and tagging to carry Valka, who would not quite be able to hold on through the acrobatics, despite her skill in remaining aboard during flight.

One such game to Ember summed up the new dynamics between all of them. Herb had elected to carry Valka, and Spark was 'it', the one who needed to tag others. They had agreed to continue flying in the general direction Herb held to, so there was a moving center of the field of play, one they had agreed not to get too far away from. The sky was clear, the sun shining brightly.

Everyone scattered, some flying ahead and some falling back, all at different elevations. Ember trusted his reflexes and remained near to the center, holding steady above Herb. Spark had immediately gone after Storm.

"Good luck with that!" Storm called back to her nephew, who was slowly gaining on her. "I am faster!"

"No, you are not!" Spark called forward, closing the distance. Thorn was also close by, a bit below and to the side, watching in amusement.

"Try me!" Storm roared.

"Nope!" Spark abruptly rolled to the side and tagged Thorn, who had not been expecting it. "Thorn is it!"

Thorn did not object, recovering from her shock quickly. She spread her wings and dropped back, before diving closer to the water.

Pearl was there, looking as if she might be about to take a break and grab a mid-flight snack. Thorn dropped and lightly flicked Pearl's ears with a wingtip. "Always look up!"

Pearl started, flying after Thorn, who was laughing as she moved away. "Hey, I wasn't playing!"

"You can go back to your food once you catch a dragon!" Thorn replied happily, sticking her tongue out at the Light Fury.

Pearl looked around, scanning the playing area. Her eyes locked on to Ember, who grinned toothily. If she wanted to try him, she might not get her food any time soon.

On that note, where was Beryl? Ember looked back, spotting his son high in the sky at the back of the group. It seemed like the pure black Night Fury was planning something. Well, Ember would leave Beryl to it. Pearl was closing in on Ember fast.

Ember rolled to the side, barely avoiding the rising Light Fury as she barreled through where he had been. "Close!"

"Not as close as I'm going to be!" Pearl yelled back, arching her back as she twisted around, losing all momentum, and plummeting back at him.

Ember rolled again, this time dropping as he did. Pearl was moving too fast to-

Pearl spread her wings, slowing abruptly, and swerved around in an incredibly tight turn. She was still heading straight towards him, from the side now, and he was too close to the water to dive.

So, he went up instead, turning tail and fleeing even as he climbed. His wings were slightly wider, longer, and his muscles were bigger. Pearl lost ground, unable to keep up.

"Close, but not quite," Ember continued victoriously, looping around and losing sight of Pearl for a moment, high in the air now. He looked down, expecting a retort-

And realized that he couldn't see her. She was gone. Had she switched targets?

No, some primal awareness inside him whispered, he was still being hunted. He had not heard the fireball detonate, but it was very likely, seeing as she was nowhere in sight, that Pearl was camouflaged, invisible.

That was one thing Ember was very grateful for, in retrospect. Vithvarandi had never encountered Light Furies. This ability, in particular, was more effective than a Changewing, for it worked in midair while Changewings needed something to camouflage against. Vithvarandi as a Light Fury would have been a nightmare.

Ember left that line of speculation for later, circling unpredictably in the sky, wondering even as he scanned the air with his eyes whether it would be fair to use the same near-useless sight by sound trick that had ousted Vithvarandi. It would tell him where Pearl was.

No, he'd rather not cheat. The sky was clear, and Pearl's camouflage was not flawless if one knew to look for the subtle shimmer in the air. Where was she?

On second thought, maybe he did not need to search for her. She had to get him. He angled himself down, flying at an angle, and just fast enough that Pearl could catch up, but only if she flew straight for him.

Seconds passed. She had to be getting closer. Ember chanced a peek over his shoulder. There was his tail, and... there she was, approaching from the left. That shimmer was barely visible, but barely was not the same as not visible at all.

The question was, did he want her to catch him? Maybe. He wasn't sure if he could let himself be caught.

At that moment, a black blur dropped in front of Ember, forcing him to rear back and slow down. Pearl grabbed Ember's tail and did not let go as he fell through the air, high above the ocean below.

Ember caught a wry grin from Beryl even as he plummeted. It seemed his son had helped Pearl catch him. Fine. He was caught, and he didn't particularly mind.

Now, if she would just let go. "You win!" Ember yelled at Pearl, who he could just imagine smiling joyously, still clutching his tail as if it was the prize for her victory.

"What? I can't hear you!" Pearl yelled back.

"You win!" Ember repeated, yanking at his tail, looking down at the sea with slight concern. "You caught me!"

"Ha!" Pearl roared, letting go and presumably flying away, though Ember lost track of the shimmer that denoted her presence, his mind focused on pulling up out of the freefall.

The game had tapered off after that, as Pearl could not deactivate her camouflage. It would, she explained from the empty and shimmering air, wear off once her scales had cooled down enough. As no one wanted to play against an invisible opponent, they all gathered back around Herb and settled back into normal flight.

Yes, that game stood out among the ones they played on the way to the meeting island. Ember wasn't sure why, but he found himself thinking of it in quiet moments.

Eventually, they reached the island, a nondescript place of plain fields and stones. A few days of waiting after that and Ryker arrived, looking none too pleased.

O-O-O-O-O

Valka stood in the field, alone and unarmed save for her staff. If this went as planned, it would not matter what Ryker saw, and what his men saw would make no difference, as they would attribute all of this to the Collector. She had lost the signature cloak at some point along the way, but that was fine. It was a hideous thing anyway.

This was a bit dangerous. Valka didn't care. She was doing it to help her Stormcutter, the friend she called Cloudjumper in her heart. He never took to any name, so it was only in her heart, but still. Cloudjumper needed her to do this, though the remove between her own actions here and the chain of events that would lead to his freedom was pretty large.

It was a complex, morally ambiguous plan, but this part was simple. Have Ember kill Ryker, without taking any injuries and without any other death on either side. That last condition was a bit hypocritical on the surface, but Ember had insisted upon Ryker being the only one to die here today, as a way to balance what was to be done. An undeserved mercy to many even as they passed judgment on one.

Maybe she should have spent some time telling of the horrors each of the big four had committed. Just the ones she personally saw. Ryker, for instance, the second-in-command of Viggo, had slaughtered several nests of the more common types, deeming them more valuable as bulk parts to sell than as living, breathing creatures. Viggo was responsible for the massacre of the original residents of the island that now made up his base of operations, killing them for the strategically valuable location. There were countless other atrocities to add to each name, Drago and Krogan being no better. Even the real Collector had been horrible.

When Valka had first arrived in this part of the world, there had been three centers of power. The Collector, Drago, and Viggo. The Collector, she had realized early on, was the only one within her power to defeat, and doing that had taken years. Now, it was possible that all three would be destroyed in the end, mighty though they were, brought down just a bit sooner than otherwise would have occurred by some subtle prompting on the part of these Furies.

Maybe if the Furies had seen what she had seen, had been fighting this cold war for years, they would not hesitate to end all of the hunters that were docking here. It was a possibility.

Still, this was good. It was a concrete plan. Valka smiled, knowing nothing could be seen under the red face covering she wore as the Collector. Today would see a blight on the world removed, as she had said before.

Ryker, followed by over a dozen hunters, stormed over to Valka, stopping barely far enough away as to not convey a threat. It was clear that he did not know what to think. She was here, vulnerable, but without any sign of the rest of their deal.

"Where are the men?" He asked coldly.

"You requested a hundred men for three months," Valka replied with a sly smile. "The Collector's word is good."

"So where are they?" Ryker growled.

"The Collector's word is good," Valka repeated coldly, not looking up as a shadow passed overhead, holding the attention of Ryker and his escort, "but I am not the Collector, and my word when we last met is entirely worthless when given to dragon-hunting scum such as yourself."

Explosions, chaos, and injury. No one would die, but many were temporarily blinded by the dirt thrown up from half a dozen blasts around the escort. Valka dropped to the ground, knowing the dirt would obscure vision. She did not need to contribute to the danger Pearl would be facing by making the number of possible targets to sort through higher than it needed to be.

"Dragon attack!" someone yelled, quite unnecessarily in Valka's opinion. Then there was a scream. No death, but injuries were unavoidable.

Ryker stumbled over her, and Valka knew her luck just wasn't present today. Ryker, on the other hand, though not yet aware of it, had no luck left whatsoever, to be the one doing the stumbling. Even as Valka kicked out at him, she yelled "Pearl!"

Ryker glared at her, a hand reaching out to block the staff aimed at his face. "Thief."

"Dead man walking." Valka rolled to the side just as Ryker was abruptly grabbed by the air itself, and lifted. Valka closed her eyes, knowing what was about to happen.

A grunt of pain, and then a shower of fine dust. She knew that if she opened her eyes to check, the dust would be black. Ember had told her of how this worked. A distasteful act, but it was why they were here.

Silence reigned, broken only by moans and whispers of abject fear. Valka stood to see the Furies circling above, just out of range of projectiles. Ryker was nowhere to be seen, but the pure horror on the faces of many of the hunters, all of whom were staring at the orange Fury, in particular, proved Ryker's demise had been witnessed.

The first step on the road that would see Cloudjumper free and both tyrants dead by the other's hand. Now for another step, one Valka had discussed with the others previously. She stood, and strode towards the nearest hunter.

"You." She made her voice cold. "Who is in charge now?"

"Not me!" he yelled frantically, looking as if he wanted to run. Another day, he might have been right in thinking that Valka was looking to destroy Ryker's entire chain of command, if not the whole force of hunters, but today was not like any other fight.

"Fine. You will all," and at that, she raised her voice to be heard by many, "return to Viggo and tell him that a storm is coming. One with the name of Drago, and one bringing a Bewilderbeast. He would do well to be ready when it arrives." She glared at the hunter in front of her. "Those words exactly delivered to Viggo himself. Do I make myself clear?"

The hunter nodded, and scrambled backward, joining his men on their retreat back to the ships. His eyes shined with relief, for to be told to deliver a message meant Valka did not intend he die here. As she, to his mind, obviously controlled the dragons who could sink their ships in a heartbeat, he was safe.

Only because Ember struggled, quite rightfully, with what needed to be done. It would be annoying in anyone else, but Valka preferred one with Ember's abilities to not harden themselves to war, for fear of the damage that mindset would cause out of war.

Also, he was her son, but that was a difficult fact to remember when looking at the dragon several decades older than she was, especially when watching him interact with his sons.

Her grandsons. Grand-dragons? Of all the strange things she could have thought of, that had not been a possibility that ever crossed her mind.

Regardless, these hunters only lived by Ember's objections to the realities of war. They lived, most likely, simply to cause trouble and fight later on, to die against Drago.

The deed was done. That was all that mattered.

O-O-O-O-O

"I've been thinking," Ember began.

"Never a bad thing," Spark chirped confidently.

"Do we all need to go all the way back to Drago's mountain?" Ember looked around at his friends and family. "We'd just be coming right back here." He was also pretty sure it was safer far away from Drago, and after getting his family back, he didn't want to put them into any unnecessary danger.

"Well, no," Pearl agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "But there's no reason not to come either."

"True," Herb said, adding his own opinion. "Besides, at least if we all go we will be doing something."

"I need to strengthen my wings and increase my stamina," Thorn asserted. "Better to go with you for that, as we will be flying all day."

"Fine. We'll all go, and then once we're sure where he's going, we'll all go back to Viggo's island,"Ember agreed. A pointless trip for everyone but himself, but who was he to argue? They were not actually going anywhere near Drago's stronghold.

Really, he would not mind the company, either, given how boring these flights were going to be. It might not be so annoying if they were not simply flying from one place to another, back and forth.

Ember had a feeling he was not going to enjoy the trip back to Drago's stronghold thanks to anticipation. All of this lay on his shoulders.

O-O-O-O-O

Tense. That was the only word for how Ember felt, many days of flight later. He had bid farewell to everyone, promising Thorn that he would be careful, promising Storm that he would not be timid, and then promising Pearl, of all people, that he wouldn't be reckless. He wasn't sure why she seemed so distraught, more so than Beryl or Spark, both of whom simply wished him luck, but he went with it.

Truthfully, Pearl was confusing him more and more by the day, for no reason he could put into words. He had to struggle, even now, to put her out of his mind. Thinking about Pearl was not a safe occupation when surrounded by Drago's men, even if it was far more pleasant than focusing on reality.

He was not at the mountain yet, and he certainly wasn't yet in Ryker's form, instead having donned that of the guard he had killed the last time he was here, but it did not pay to drift off into thought like that. Not when half of the men on the supply ship he had hitched a ride back on stared at him suspiciously.

Luckily, no one acted on their suspicions. Ember needed this ride in, knowing that to approach in dragon form was asking to be taken over. He had to assume he would be as vulnerable as Pearl was, having the same level of exposure to Bewilderbeasts as they did.

Of course, he probably wasn't going to have a choice on the way out. Rowing away in a rowboat might have been his official plan for getting away, but it wasn't likely to work out that well. He'd fly and hope that he could fight off the Bewilderbeast's attempts until he was out of range. Valka had confirmed that there was still a range for active mental activity, if not for holding control once it was acquired, so he was not doomed if that occurred. He would just be tested.

This felt almost surreal, but Ember knew better than to give in to that feeling and take any of it lightly. He made sure to mumble convincingly about finding his superior officer before sneaking off into the mountain itself, carrying himself as if he had a right to be there.

They had discussed at length how best to ensure Drago ran head-long at Viggo with the Bewilderbeast. It was decided that he needed to do a few different things on this incursion.

Ember headed for Drago's ship, anchored at one side of the docks, empty and abandoned. Getting aboard unseen was surprisingly easy. Even better, Second had already shown Ember exactly where Drago's cabin was, so Ember was able to head directly there.

It was a grim place, which did not surprise him at all. What did surprise him was the sheer quantity of letters and maps on the single desk. Drago did not strike him as the 'parchment-work' type of tyrant. Didn't he have some semi-trusted lackey to do this for him?

Well, Drago had seemed very untrusting... and Second couldn't write. Maybe Drago really didn't have anyone to do all of this.

Setting all of the parchment on fire was a tempting proposition, but Ember needed Drago to think they had been successfully stolen, not destroyed, so he grabbed them all, stuffed them beneath a large arm, and clambered back to the deck. Then he just dropped them over the side, into the frigid water. No one saw. The docks were deserted.

There. That was one mission accomplished. Viggo's operatives had stolen Drago's private plans, notes, and documentation. Now any plan of attack Drago might have formulated in advance was compromised. Not to mention, Ember had no idea what Viggo could do with whatever had been 'stolen', but it was probably quite bad in general for him to hypothetically get his hands on all of that.

Next, Ember had a much trickier goal. He wandered around the bottom floor of the mountain until he ran into someone who could point him in Drago's direction.

"Prison block," the guard muttered, not looking Ember in the eye. Shifty, this one was. "I don' know wha' he's doin' down there, and I don' wanna know."

Or maybe just smart. Ember nodded in subdued thanks and scurried away. This body, wide but not tall, was well-suited to moving quickly and urgently, appearing anxious but not alarmed, a good way to ensure no one bothered him. He had not yet donned Ryker's form. That was a needless risk at the moment. Looking like a guard, he had complete anonymity, and as a result the run of the place, as long as he kept his head down. Getting a prisoner out would be impossible, but he didn't need to get anyone aside from himself out, so this worked.

More guards pointed him in the right direction, but Drago seemed to be on the other side of the mountain, so it took a while to find him. Finally, someone pointed straight at the corridor disappearing into darkness and said "down that way. You can't miss 'im."

Ember crept down the passage, feeling a slight breeze from ahead. Had he gone straight through to the other side of the mountain?

Apparently so. The beach appeared abruptly, right as Ember passed a thick stone slab. He took a moment to covertly look at the hidden exit before continuing.

It was designed so that the slab could be moved aside from inside the mountain, but not outside. Additionally, the section of stone was indistinguishable from the areas around it, one of the thousands of similar flat stone faces that made up the outside of the mountain. No one was getting in from here unless someone from the inside let them.

Devoid of further directions, Ember stepped out from behind several boulders, wondering if he was going to find Drago fishing, or staring at the sea, or some other relatively benign-

Nope. Ember fought the urge to run and quickly ducked back behind the closest rock, thankful he had not been spotted. After a moment he stuck his head out just enough to see what was going on.

The first thing that caught the eye was definitely the massive Bewilderbeast head just poking up out of the water, eyes right at the waterline, a few dozen yards from the beach. Quite the steep drop-off in depth there, for a dragon that size to fit under the water.

Drago was standing on the shore facing away from Ember, with a man Ember recognized as Krogan watching from nearby.

There was one more participant in this strange scene, if an unwilling one. Second stood there, his eyes blank and posture neutral, ignoring everything, or so it seemed. When Ember looked closer, it became clear that Second was not in control of himself, his pupils slits.

Drago began yelling hoarsely, swinging his bullhook around his head. "Release!" he repeated, over and over, while nonverbally demanding submission. From the Bewilderbeast.

Ember was sickened, if not surprised, when the Bewilderbeast bowed, its eyes disappearing beneath the water for a moment before reappearing. Raised from an egg, Second had told Thorn, just like Second himself. This Bewilderbeast likely thought no more of disobeying Drago than Second did.

Maybe Ember might have seen the Bewilderbeast as a victim, but Storm had relayed the nature of its musings, and Thorn had backed up those revelations with weaker impressions. This dragon was, by both of their accounts, amoral and greedy. Greedy for as many servants as it could find. That would not change if Drago was dead... and Drago, by extension, was the Bewilderbeast's limiting factor. Without him, it would be impossible to get the massive sea-dragon to a place where he could be dealt with.

If that would work. If at any point the Bewilderbeast or Drago did not cooperate with the planned manipulations Ember was carrying out, if some link in the chain of events failed, they would have to redo everything and find another way to free the Stormcutter. This was just the first plan. Hopefully the only one they'd need, but not the last if not.

"Release!" Drago screamed one last time and hit Second quite hard with the blunt edge of the bullhook. Second didn't even flinch, still apparently under the Bewilderbeast's control.

"Is it possible the dragon is incapable of relinquishing control?" Krogan asked carefully.

"Perhaps," Drago ground out angrily, "but I do not think so. He is defying me."

Ember thought that Drago might be slightly unaware of the stupidity of threatening and commanding a creature capable of stepping on him without even noticing, but then again Drago was the one who had apparently raised this dragon. They were fitting companions. Two stubborn, power-hungry monsters.

Then the Bewilderbeast growled, a vibrating shaking of the air. "Mine."

Drago did not know the exact message, but he clearly understood that it was not intended as an apology. "No! Do it!"

"Mine. I give him back temporarily," the Bewilderbeast clarified, before bowing again. Second's pupils expanded.

Drago paused, before laughing, a gravelly cough that sounded distinctly unhealthy. "Remember this," he ground out at Krogan. "Never fall for little things. They must see your authority as absolute."

Ember smiled to himself as Drago laughed, knowing that Drago had just done exactly what he had warned Krogan against. The Bewilderbeast had conceded only partially, and Drago didn't know it.

But power struggles between Drago and the Bewilderbeast were not good for the larger plan. Ember could only hope Drago had a way of bringing the massive dragon along on the future attack, of ensuring obedience in that.

This plan was feeling more and more optimistic the more Ember considered it, here and seeing just how fragile the circumstances he needed to create were. It probably wouldn't work out.

He would try anyway, of course, because it was the best plan they had. Now, however, was not a good time to show himself to Drago, gloat, reference plans of Viggo, and run off. There was more to it, subtleties he needed to hit just right, but none of that involved Second or the Bewilderbeast.

And then there was the third point. He needed to kill Krogan, if at all possible. The man might be a voice of caution that they could not afford Drago to listen to, as he had gotten the better of Viggo once before. Killing him would also reinforce the idea that Viggo knew all, as Krogan was supposed to be assumed dead, and thus that it really was Viggo behind this.

So much of this relied on Drago seeing events just right, on the perfect sequence of events. Anything out of place with the version of reality they needed Drago to believe would probably ruin the course of action they needed Drago to take.

Ember mentally compared his task with shooting fire at the feet of two Nadders... hoping that they'd look around, each blame their neighbor, and promptly kill each other with spikes. His only aid in this endeavor was that the Nadders in that metaphor were already suspicious of each other and that he could shoot like a Nadder as long as no one looked too closely. Doable, with an insane amount of luck.

So, he needed to get Krogan alone, and then Drago alone. Luckily, with Second now out from under the command of the Bewilderbeast, only temporarily though Drago didn't know that, Drago and Krogan were returning to the mountain, leaving Second to follow behind.

Unluckily, they were, of course, going back the same way they had left, which involved passing right by Ember, and very likely closing the door, locking him out.

Ember moved around the rock he was using for cover as they passed by, staying out of sight. He would have to force his way in. It might be doable with his increased strength, though Pearl had mentioned in passing that she suspected his one-on-one with Second so long ago had been the cause of his coma. Breaking the secret exit might be very dangerous. He was pretty sure there was nothing stopping him from exerting enough energy to cause himself to simply drop dead from exhaustion later when it hit him.

Then Second stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly. Drago and Krogan noticed this and left the door open, Krogan standing by the exit, looking distinctly annoyed.

Drago had moved on. Second was distracted. Krogan was holding the door. The Bewilderbeast had sunk entirely beneath the water.

This was not a perfect chance, but he could make do. Second had no way of telling Drago of what occurred here. Just for safety, Ember shifted to Ryker's form. Best if even Second saw nothing but what Ember needed everyone to believe.

Ember drew Ryker's sword, glad Ryker's skill with the blade came with the body, a subset of his memory. Ryker was good, very good. That would help both in keeping up appearances and in killing Krogan.

Now, to get this done before Second caught up. Ember sprinted from behind the rock, approaching Krogan from the side, unseen for the moment it took Krogan to notice movement out of the corner of his eye.

The dark-skinned man rolled, dodging Ember's swing, and kicked, almost disarming him then and there. Ember lashed out with a thick fist, catching Krogan in the knee, a distinct crack resounding.

Krogan's leg did not stop, and Ember had to fumble for his grip for a crucial second.

Speaking of Second... Ember dropped, flattening himself against the ground just as Second fired, a blast hitting the interior of the passage, doing no damage to the heavy stone.

This was bad. Ember had to move fast, and Second had gotten involved, stopping him from finishing Krogan off.

But it seemed that Krogan did not trust Second to have his back, judging by the way he lunged for Ember, not letting the Night Fury get into the fight.

Ember smiled a cold and predatory smile even as Krogan managed to get him to the ground. There was something the other man hadn't noticed, though it was a surprise to Ember too.

Second pounced, tearing at both of them. Both of them, though Krogan was between Ember and Second. Krogan was right not to trust the one Drago had literally named his second in command. It seemed, if Ember had to guess, that Second had not been told to treat Krogan with any deference, and now, in combat, was not considering some random soldier's well-being.

Brutality and Drago's callousness ended up dealing the decisive blow, not Ember himself, as Second cut Krogan's stomach and throat open almost by accident, intent on dealing Ember killing blows. Second seemed to be releasing quite a bit of pent-up frustration, judging by the wordless howling of pure rage coming out of the dragon.

Ember, feeling sickened by the fact that Krogan's body was basically a shield at this point, began to worry as Second broke through, dealing real injuries. He needed this body a while longer, but he still felt some small reluctance to kill Second.

So, when Second accidentally let up for a moment, his claws snagging on some part of Krogan that did not tear and part so easily, Ember rolled instead of stabbing, pulling back and away from the bloody mess that had been Krogan, and slammed a meaty fist into Second's head, the hilt of his sword cracking against the Night Fury's skull with a quite impressive amount of force.

An accident, a caught claw, had stopped Second. Ember heaved a pained sigh as Second collapsed, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. There was a distinct feeling of powerlessness here. Almost as if events were playing out, but Ember was not the one directing them. It was not good to rely solely on luck. That had worked out fairly well, for the most part, but almost none of the initiative had been Ember's.

But it was done. Now the issue was that he wasn't sure if Ryker's body was going to make it. Second had not been playing around, as Krogan's mangled body indicated, and Ryker's form was losing blood, fast.

Ember managed to tear a strip off of his own tunic, and shakily bandaged the worst of the wounds, recalculating as he did. This would have to last, that was all. He felt a bit lightheaded, but it was bearable.

He didn't close the stone passage exit as he reentered the mountain. Let someone else do it. It wasn't like he knew how it was done anyway.

A pained step back inside. Two. He could do this. All he needed was to find-

"Fool."

That didn't sound good, but it seemed Drago had found him. Ember stepped right back out of the passage, backing up as Drago advanced, a dark figure in the mountain. He left a trail of blood as he retreated.

He needed to play a part. "Yer the fool," Ember growled, "thinkin' yer a match for Viggo."

"Idiot," Drago asserted, his eyes flickering to Second and Krogan, or what was left of Krogan. "You and my late apprentice."

"Viggo is coming for you," Ember continued, ranting as if he was speaking without thought for secrecy. "He's got a way in, he's got the men, and he can. That's all the reason he needs." Drago needed to believe Viggo was going to invade soon if nothing was done.

"Ember." Drago grinned.

Ember's heart stopped beating for a second. Well, Ryker's heart felt odd, which wasn't quite the same thing. Probably from all of the blood he had lost. Whatever the cause, it was beating erratically, and that fit Ember's total surprise.

"I see now," Drago rumbled threateningly, "why the boy had such a hardened interior, so little emotion. There is no chance that two men have the same inner turmoil."

...And there went their plans, just like that.

"Since when does Viggo hold with black magic?" Drago asked with a sneer. "Enough to have his own brother dabble."

Or maybe not?

"Whatever is necessary," Ember managed, not letting his face betray anything.

"And you are not afraid of the death that is coming for you," Drago seemed to muse, still advancing menacingly.

"You will lose regardless," Ember blustered, taking a step back. "No amount o' men will ever take our island, and if you do not try Viggo will be free to attack this mistake carved inta stone." Leading statements. Drago needed to want to forestall an attack, and speaking specifically of men...

"I will destroy him and his pitiful island," Drago asserted angrily. "Your brother should know by now. I command beast as well as man."

Perfect. Ember did his best not to let his elation show either. This at least was still going right. "It would have to be Jörmungandr himself to make a difference."

"Look behind you, and die," Drago said, his voice eerily calm. "It follows my commands."

Ember turned, knowing what he would see. How had Drago summoned the Bewilderbeast? It sat there, towering above the water, fully exposed for the massive leviathan it was.

"He told me of the fight," Drago grated from behind Ember, "and I told him to come back here. This dragon is capable of mental speech, as the least of its abilities. Sometimes."

That was new, though the distaste in Drago's voice implied to Ember that the dark man preferred the old-fashioned methods of communication, screaming and swinging his stick around.

"And now, brother of my enemy, hear my command to him." Drago laughed hoarsely. "Obliterate."

Before Ember could ever move, the Bewilderbeast opened its mouth and shot massive jets of blue-green water at him, striking-

This terrible disorientation was not new, not to Ember. He had felt it before when forms of his died. The difference was, it had always resolved itself, just a moment of instinctual panic as he did not exist. Now, it lingered, torturously long, before resolving into...

Oh.

Ember felt the urge to scream, but he knew he had very limited air. Limited air, as he was trapped inside a massive blue-green chunk of ice, in a strangely shaped pocket of air. The pocket was shaped almost like...

He looked around. It was strange, irregular, seeming to expand from one wall, like a shadow.

Black dust speckled the ice at the shortest wall. Now he understood. This was the pocket of air created by Ryker's body, blocking the freezing water in the split second it hit, creating a place the water had not lingered when it froze.

Trapped.

No panicking, he couldn't afford to panic. Time was short. He didn't know how much air was left in this pocket, but it couldn't be much.

He shifted to the generic soldier he had acquired and tried to hold the fires on his entire body. That was strangely hard, harder than it had ever been since that night in the cold, in the cage, but he managed through force of will to maintain the internal contradiction necessary and pushed at a wall. Not the front, where Ryker had been, for he remembered the freezing liquid hitting the ground a ways in front of him, and not back, because who knew how far it had splashed. He went to the side, hoping that it had not had time to spread too far out before freezing.

Normal fires usually needed air, which he knew from the fact that one could kill a fire by covering it if it was in a baking pit, but his transformation fires were in no way normal. He hoped. If they did need air, then he'd suffocate far sooner, but at least he was making progress this way, both pushing at and melting the ice. A strange creaking sound began to build, similar to that of ice being squeezed by a rigid object.

He began to gasp involuntarily, hoping that when this body suffocated the one he fell into, one of his two primary forms, would have enough air to make it the rest of-

A resounding crack and Ember tumbled forward, having leaned all of this body's bulk onto the side, pushing and burning. He lay there, gasping, and let the transformation fires recede. It had been close, so close. The ice under him was cold, but he could see cloudy skies above.

After a moment of rejoicing that he was still alive, Ember got to his feet and quickly took a look around. The Bewilderbeast and Drago were both gone. It seemed neither of them had thought to stick around and make sure he hadn't somehow survived being frozen alive. To be fair, it was pretty much instant death, and most people didn't have a life to spare.

Fine by him. Ember didn't even bother looking for the path back inside the mountain, shifting to his dragon form and flying off.

There was a strange pressure, but he could resist, as long as the Bewilderbeast didn't push. It was an ambient feeling, and Ember knew that the Bewilderbeast could push if it decided to. Whether it was aware of him or not was unclear. Either way, Ember made it further and further away, until the pressure disappeared. Luck had gotten him away.

Ember thought, as he flew back to the island they had taken as their temporary home, about what Drago had said. He was pretty sure he'd pointed Drago towards the right path, despite or maybe because of Drago's unexpected insight, and the false conclusion he'd drawn.

But could he call this success? Maybe, as he had, technically, gotten everything done. Between the odd fight with Second and Krogan, the terrible shock of Drago calling him out, and his near brush with death, Ember was reluctant to call what he'd gone through a success. Acceptable, maybe.

But if he'd done well enough, the wheels of war were already spinning into gear in Drago's mind. And Viggo's, once the message Valka had sent reached the paranoid businessman. Time would tell.

**_Author's Note:_ Friday morning this time around, not that far from Thursday afternoon. We're in the... No, I'm not going to make that reference yet; I'd be preempting myself. You'll get it in a week or so.**


	24. Endgame

**_Author's Note:_ Like my accidental quote in a different story, this title has nothing to do with the recent Avengers movie, as it refers to the theme of the chapter.**

**Also, just as a heads up, at some point over the next few weeks, chapter 21, Thaw, is going to get a minor revamp. Several reviewers have noted that it does not quite live up to the rest of the story in terms of quality, and looking back, I agree entirely. I had wanted to revamp it this week and update it today, but life got in the way. That is coming, though.**

Pearl paced in worry. She did not see the confused looks sent her way by Beryl and Spark as she was too busy watching the sky. Ember had voluntarily returned to that terrible mountain, and he was in danger, his perfect disguise notwithstanding. Worst of all was the knowledge that if he failed, they were right back where they started, but with no plan, one less planner, and a serious lack of options.

And she would have lost him. So she paced but did not fly. No flying, because if she got into the air, her wings would take her back to that place, and the alpha would catch her. Even if she could fend him off with more terrible memories, that would alert him, and she would be no closer to Ember. Still, it was an idea. If she assumed that her memories could hold the alpha off for a time and that she could get in, find Ember, and get out before her camouflage wore off...

"Do not even think about it." Storm huffed wryly, coming to stand at Pearl's side, watching the sky. "He is fine, and you are not going after him."

"I could do it," Pearl objected.

"You could get caught," Storm corrected neutrally. "We do not know that the alpha will be stupid enough to fall for that trick again."

"I know," Pearl sighed, lashing her tail. "It's just really hard to wait like this."

"Then we can talk about something else," Storm offered. Then her eyes narrowed. "You need to change tactics."

"With Ember?" Pearl thought she was doing pretty well on that front. He was talking freely with her, laughing at her jokes...

"He treats you as he treats me," Storm objected bluntly. "I do not think that is what you are going for."

Pearl reared back in shock. "No, he doesn't!" The idea that he just saw her as something of a sister was not a happy one.

"And what are you two arguing about?" Thorn interjected, walking up to them.

"Ember is almost starting to treat Pearl like another sister." Storm shook her head. "That is not good."

"Not if you still want him as your own," Thorn agreed, looking at Pearl. "Have you tried just telling him how you feel?"

"Not yet, but..." How could she voice the indistinct fears that the idea brought? "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"You should do it soon," Thorn said, as if not hearing Pearl's objections. "While we are traveling to this final battle Ember is arranging even now."

"But what if I haven't done enough?!" Pearl whined. "What if I tell him, and he just laughs and says I'm like a sister to him?" She needed to actually attract him first, and that facet of this had been neglected in favor of more innocent interactions.

"He would not laugh," Thorn corrected kindly. "And it is possible he will say that."

"What then?" Pearl was really hoping the answer wasn't going to be 'give up'.

"Then," Storm purred, "you tackle him and do things no sister would ever do."

"What?!" Pearl almost shrieked.

"Storm is exaggerating." Thorn chuckled, before placing a wing over Pearl in comfort. "You would not need to be so forward. Just make sure he knows you do not see him as a brother, and lead him along a little. Do not let him answer you immediately; make him take some time to think about it first."

"If you do it right," Storm hummed slyly, "he will be ready to give you a good answer when you ask him again in a few days."

"That's a little better," Pearl agreed quietly. "And if he still says the same?"

"Then you let him go, find another who can love you back, and be happy," Thorn instructed. "No matter how long it takes, or how much that hurts at first. It might just not be possible for him to see you like that. He is not the only dragon in the world."

"But I want him to be happy too," Pearl objected. "I'm not just doing this for myself."

"Yes, you are," Thorn said sternly. "If I thought you were doing this to make him happy, I would forbid it. You are doing this because you want to be happy. Him benefiting is a given, but it is not why you are attempting this. So if he cannot return it, you will hurt, but you will heal and move on."

"Thank you." Hearing that it would hurt, but not be the end of the world, was strangely comforting. As if it put all of her fears into perspective. A risk could be taken. It was possibly the risk would fail, but she would just have to keep going in life if it did.

O-O-O-O-O

Day turned to night, and Ember still hadn't returned. There was no estimated time for this. He would stay until he had to leave, whether or not he had accomplished everything. That could be hours, but it could also be days. There was no way to know.

Pearl had not left the shore, still watching the sky. Thorn and Storm had stayed with her, and over time everyone else had made their way over. Spark and Herb were talking quietly, as were Beryl and Valka, all waiting. Waiting for Ember to return.

It was hard to say who saw him first, a blur against the stars that, if one looked very closely, had an orange tint. No one saw him until he was close, but seemingly at once several of them, Pearl included, roared in greetings, relief tinging their voices. Ember had returned.

He set down right next to them, smiling toothlessly. "A nice welcome."

"You deserve as much for making it back at all," Herb said solemnly. "We are just glad that much is certain."

"Well, Ryker's body didn't make it, so this was our best shot," Ember commented calmly. "I got everything done."

"Drago's parchments, his plans?" Beryl inquired.

"Gone," Ember hummed smugly. "Drago will think they were stolen, and Ryker wasn't carrying them."

"Krogan?" Valka asked, her eyes cold.

"Dead, and I didn't actually do it." Ember shivered. "I started the fight, but Second kind of took over pretty much immediately."

"Second was released?" Herb shook his head. "I thought that could not happen unless the alpha died."

"Or unless Drago makes the alpha give him up, which he did," Ember growled. "Only temporarily. I doubt Second is acting completely on his own will even now. This is not an easier way to free the Stormcutter."

"No, it is not," Beryl agreed solemnly.

"Drago actually figured out that I was Ember," Ember admitted casually. Everyone froze.

"Then how can you say everything went according to plan?!" Storm asked incredulously.

"Get this," Ember laughed. "He assumed I was really Ryker the entire time, and that Viggo had his brother get into black magic as a tactical advantage. It actually worked in our favor. I got him on the right train of thought."

"And then?" Pearl asked. She could hear a hitch of recent fear in his words. Whatever came next had scared Ember.

"Then the Bewilderbeast killed me by burying me in liquid ice, which froze immediately," Ember admitted quietly. "I came back in another body inside an air pocket. But I got out, so it's fine."

"No, it's not!" Pearl objected immediately, horrified. "You could have really died!"

"But I didn't, and that's all that matters," Ember countered. "Now we wait."

Pearl let it go for the moment, knowing that this particular discussion, whether or not Ember was aware of it, was not over. She would just let it sit for a while, and bring it back up when they were alone.

After that revelation, the group had nothing more to say. Thorn gave Pearl an encouraging look before going to Herb and settling down.

Pearl was debating in her own head whether to address Ember's brush with death now or the next day when Spark went up to Ember and began a conversation. So much for that.

Then Beryl stepped in front of her. "Beryl?"

"I can see what you're doing," Beryl began bluntly.

Pearl sighed. "I've been told it's pretty obvious." This conversation was a familiar one.

"Ember isn't super observant with things like this, which I believe comes from Hiccup," Beryl agreed. "You need to be even less subtle."

"So... you're okay with it?"

"I'm a bit confused as to your choice in prospective mates," Beryl chuffed agreeably, "given the wide variety here." He puffed his chest out dramatically, though the slightly mocking tone in his voice implied he was joking around. "But yeah, go ahead. I'll make sure he doesn't do anything he regrets later."

"Thank-"

"Anything he would regret later. That includes saying yes because he can't bear to say no. He's soft-hearted. I want what's best for him, which might not end up being what you want." A growl. "Don't hurt him. Don't make him feel guilty if he doesn't want you."

"I was under the impression that the daughter's Sire usually gave this speech to the male," Pearl joked weakly.

"You're not the one who's already scarred inside," Beryl remarked casually, unaware of just how painfully ironic that was. "And I don't see your parents here to lecture him."

That hurt too. Pearl held in a snarl in favor of a more suitable reaction. "Do me a favor, would you? Go get Thorn alone, and repeat to her what you said, word for word." She made her voice sweet, to remove any threat in those words. "She will probably want to tell you something."

Beryl nodded agreeably, though he seemed a bit confused. "Sure." He trotted off.

Pearl held in a dark chuckle. He thought she was helping him. If her assessment of Thorn was correct... Pearl watched as Beryl went up to Thorn and said something, probably repeating his comments to Pearl. Word for word.

Thorn slapped Beryl across the face with her tail. He jumped back in shock, but Thorn began lecturing him immediately.

Yes, that was what she had thought would happen. Maybe Pearl could have done it herself, but she felt a glow of warmth flooding her chest at the sight of Thorn lecturing Beryl on her behalf. It was really nice to see someone else acting for her in a way she wanted.

It wasn't really Beryl's fault, as he didn't know her past, but he needed to learn to watch his words around new people. Hurting them unintentionally was a real possibility. This would be a good lesson.

And he had wondered why she did not look to him or his brother? They might be similar in age, but she did not feel their age. Maybe she was more experienced, but that didn't ring true, knowing Beryl's past. He had gone through similarly bad experiences in his life. That was not the difference.

Maybe she just preferred more maturity than either Beryl or Spark regularly displayed. Either way, she was beginning to see both of them as unruly overgrown fledglings, though they dropped the childishness when things got serious. That just wasn't what she wanted to see in a prospective mate. Ember was more serious, and his humor was of a more grounded kind, though he had more than his fair share of quirks.

Or maybe she had latched onto Ember and was now just making up excuses as to why. Really, it didn't matter.

Beryl was coming back, looking suitably embarrassed. Pearl met his eyes sternly.

He coughed awkwardly. "Sorry."

"You didn't know, but next time try to avoid certain things," Pearl said calmly. "You never know what will hurt someone, even if it seems like an innocent joke at the time."

"Lesson learned." Beryl winced. "Did you have to send me to Thorn for that?"

"No." Pearl chirped happily, turning and walking away. "I did not." She ignored the sigh of exasperation from behind her.

Now, to actually do something besides set things straight with her...

Oh. Well, that was a distinctly odd feeling. If she paired up with Ember, as she hoped, that would make Beryl and Spark... not her sons, surely. Whatever one called that. There was definitely no term for any of this, or at least none her pack had used. In her pack, there were mates, the alpha's circle, and that was it. Furies whose partner died generally either remained alone if they were female or immediately took another partner if they were male, though that was almost involuntary for the males. Children of the previous pairing were not considered children of the new partner. So Beryl and Spark wouldn't technically be her sons, but there would be some unofficial, unspoken authority she held over them.

Kind of like now, given how she had just handled Beryl. Maybe not much would change.

O-O-O-O-O

Night fell soon enough, and eventually, everyone decided it was time to get some sleep. The group had its own sleeping arrangements, determined over the time they spent traveling. When it was cold, all bets were off, but normally Herb and Thorn slept next to each other, slightly apart from everyone else. Beryl, Spark, Storm, and Valka slept in a group for comfort, and Ember normally joined that group, along with Pearl.

Pearl, with Storm's help, had maneuvered closer and closer to Ember every night and was now less than two feet away from him in their arrangement. The best part was that he didn't object, and didn't seem to notice that the gap was slowly closing.

Tonight, though, she was done being subtle. Ember was already there, so she settled down right against him, her head by his paws.

Ember, of course, noticed this immediately. He looked down at her. "Uh..."

"What?" Her tone came out slightly more confrontational than she had intended, but she ran with it. "Don't tell me you don't like this."

Ember balked, entirely caught off-guard by her words. "No, I..." Far from regaining his composure, he seemed to be rapidly losing it. "I-"

Maybe she had pushed it a little too far. "I thought you could use some company, after what you went through today," she backtracked. "Please?"

"Oh." Ember heaved a sigh of relief. "That's okay." He settled down, not shifting away.

Pearl wasn't sure whether to be happy or mad about how that had worked out. On the one paw, he seemed fine with her being this close, and he had certainly seemed flustered, so it wasn't like he was immune to the fact that she was a female. On the other paw, had he settled down because she had given him a reason to assume she was just being nice?

Thorn and Storm were right, she realized. She needed to bring this to a head, one way or the other, for her own sanity if nothing else. This second-guessing of her own actions was driving her crazy.

O-O-O-O-O

But Pearl couldn't bring herself to do it. Weeks passed in which the group monitored Drago's activities from afar. The news was good on the front. He was calling in his troops and readying his ships for war. It seemed he would attack, as they had hoped. The gamble had paid off, as unlikely as that might have seemed.

So the weeks wore on, with them all watching Drago's various activities, and she never found the right moment. Ember was always out on patrol, pushing the limits of how close he could safely get, watching. And when he was back, Spark or Herb or Beryl were always with him. He seemed happy, but they were so busy keeping track of everything that she couldn't get him alone.

Or maybe she couldn't work up the nerve and was coming up with excuses. Either way, she promised herself at the end of each night, sleeping close to Ember, she would begin the resolution of this as soon as possible.

Then one day Drago set out. It was a dark flood of ships, several dozen warships, with the large one at the head of the procession.

Spark reported that, having been the one on high-altitude patrol that day. The army was on the move.

But was the Bewilderbeast?

Beryl was sent out, and he returned quickly. "The area of influence is following the ships. The mountain is mostly out of it already. He's definitely with them. The Stormcutter is too."

"Where?" Valka asked anxiously.

"A cage on the big ship," Beryl responded sadly. "Drago must not want him flying about above them. There are a lot of cages, actually, on all of the ships. I only saw the Stormcutter because he's pretty distinct."

"How many, exactly?" Ember asked, sounding worried.

"Dozens. The Bewilderbeast will have a small army when Drago attacks," Beryl confirmed. "But it won't do much good. Remember how crazy fortified that island is?"

"Yes," Ember growled. "We'll have to try and pull the Stormcutter out of the fight quickly, and wait for Viggo to take down the Bewilderbeast."

Pearl voiced a worry she had not yet considered. "What if this Viggo guy can't take it down?" She was still unsure as to how any No-scaled-not-prey could do that.

"He's smart, paranoid, and forewarned," Ember said slowly. "I think if anyone can, he can. If he doesn't then we're back to square one, but Drago has wasted men and effort on taking down Viggo."

With that, the conversation turned to how they would follow Drago's forces without getting to close or being seen, and whether following was a smart move when they could just fly ahead and wait instead. Pearl anticipated a lot of careful flight in the next few weeks either way. A good time to talk to Ember...

No. She was stalling again. No more stalling. She waited until the conversation died down, and then said; "Ember, could you follow me? I need to talk to you."

"Can I come?" Spark asked innocently.

"No," Storm answered quickly. "Privately does not involve you."

Ember nodded and followed Pearl. She quickly flew out over the ocean, looking for a convenient sea stack. There was one nearby, one she often saw while fishing. She daintily landed there, glad the sun was out today. It was not cold here.

"This is certainly private," Ember noted. "I can barely see the island from here."

"It's the best place for this," Pearl responded absently. Now, to say what she had been putting off for far too long. And do, if he said the word 'sister'. She knew how to handle that.

"So..?" Ember stared at her oddly. "You've been quiet the last few weeks."

"That's because I was trying to work up the nerve to say this," Pearl responded candidly. "Ember, how do you see me?" If he said the wrong thing, she was going to pounce. Though she might also pounce if he said the right thing...

"See you?" Ember squinted. "You're not camouflaged, so it's pretty easy. Or do you mean when you are? There's a shimmer in the air." He nodded as if satisfied.

Pearl growled. "No, not like that! How do you see me," she repeated, spreading her wings, "as a person? As a friend?"

"A friend, for sure," Ember answered confidently. "A good friend."

"Anything more?" She purred in what she hoped was a suggestive tone.

"What?" Ember was staring again. "Pearl, you're confusing me again."

"Then let me make this clear," she growled. "People keep telling me you can't see what's in front of your nose, but I guess it never really sank in." She had worked up the nerve to do this, and he was making her mad enough with his blindness to make it easy.

"I-" Ember began but cut off when Pearl stalked towards him, growling. "Did I make you mad somehow?"

"Yes," Pearl growled, getting close now. "By being blind." She nipped at his nose, making him jolt backward with a bark of surprise. "I," she licked him on the face, "like," she purred happily, "you. Get that idea into your head. I've dropped enough hints over the last few moon-cycles." This felt like something Storm would do, but as she was supposed to be acting blunt, that was perfect.

Ember warbled, his tone confused still. "You..."

She could see the moment her feelings became clear to him. His ears shot up, and his eyes widened. He shook his head slowly as if denying it.

"Yes, I do," she snarled. "Stop denying it." His head slowed to a stop. He was still staring at her.

"So here's what we're going to do," Pearl continued. "I'm told you're stubborn, so I'm not giving you a chance to reject me until you've considered it for a good while. I'll tell you when you can say whether or not you're okay with that."

"I don't-" Ember began in a sad tone.

"No!" Pearl barked. "I've also been told not to let you do or say anything you'll regret later. Don't tell me you see me as a sister, or that you're still hurt from losing your last mate. You can think those things if they're true, but don't say them. Think about it first, and think for a good long while."

Ember closed his mouth. He stood there, looking very uncomfortable.

"Good," Pearl purred. "Actually think about it. You'll have plenty of time for that." She impulsively stuck her head out and licked him on the nose.

Ember sneezed, now looking distinctly annoyed. "Please stop doing that."

"I will if you say yes," she whispered, her voice low. "But I'm not taking anything you say as an answer yet."

"When do I have to decide?" Ember asked in a quiet voice.

"Not today. Not tomorrow. Not until..." She faltered, not sure how long was long enough. "Not until after Drago attacks that island." That felt like long enough. It would be a long journey, given how slowly the ships they were going to be waiting for moved. Plenty of time for her to work on him, and plenty of time for him to realize that she was serious. Time for him to work through any internal issues that might be holding him back.

She hoped there were issues, and not just a lack of interest. Issues were a bad thing. A lack of interest just existed, not something that she could change. Issues could be fixed.

"So... we just go back to normal until then?" Ember asked, almost whining. "How is that supposed to work?"

"It's not supposed to go back to normal," Pearl admitted. "Now you'll see everything I do in a new light." Finally. With that, she purred in his general direction and leaped upward, being sure to circle the sea stack a few times before heading back to the island.

He didn't follow, but Pearl felt his eyes watching her. Or maybe she was imagining it. She didn't look back. It was finally, after all this time, out in the open. She couldn't believe she had been even that forward, but it had worked!

O-O-O-O-O

Ember stared after Pearl as she happily flew away. His mind felt slow, numb.

One emotion was frustration, directed at himself. After actually having a mate for a few years, he should have been able to see the signs. Pearl was clearly frustrated by how blind he had been, and, the rest of this aside, he agreed with that frustration.

Of course, looking back it was obvious! Sleeping next to him, licking him, playing with him. None of that was at all subtle in retrospect, though it was clearly a clumsy and inexperienced process. She wasn't good at it.

To be fair to her, he was blind. That was pretty obvious now. He must have kept that obliviousness from Hiccup, because Ember would have seen it… if he was looking. Maybe neither side of him on their own would have seen it either.

The question was, how in the world did he feel about this belated revelation?

He really wasn't sure. Now seemed like a good time for some introspection, but he couldn't focus. The first reaction his mind had was to object, to remember Flint and push Pearl away.

His body said otherwise, but he ignored that. This was a matter of whether or not he wanted to let go of Flint, not whether or not he was attracted to Pearl. That was a given. She was beautiful. Her personality was just as beautiful. He had also found himself thinking of her at odd moments, for no apparent reason…

He did like her. It was subtle, but it was there. But this was, at its core, about Flint, not about whether or not he liked Pearl. He could hold on to his memories of Flint and mourn, or he could let go.

Sure, when he put it like that, the logical choice was to let go. Flint would have wanted him to be happy, albeit happy with her if at all possible. That was not possible, so this was the best case scenario.

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't let go. Even if he had entirely wanted to, which he did not at the moment, he still couldn't do it.

And Pearl had somehow anticipated that. She was forcing him to think about it, to linger on the decision. Probably a good idea.

Maybe with time he could let go. If not, he would just have to admit to Pearl that he couldn't do it. That would hurt her, but she at least knew it was a possibility.

She was not so naive after all if she anticipated that. And the entirely inaccurate idea that he might see her as a sister. That definitely did not apply here.

He was not at war with himself, as it was not conflict so much as he was simply unsure. Unsure if it was the right thing to do, unsure if he could do it. He needed time. Luckily, Pearl had given him exactly that.

One thing was for sure. He was going to feel very uncomfortable sleeping right next to Pearl, but something told him she wasn't going to back off. This was going to be a long trip.

O-O-O-O-O

"So? How did it go?" Storm asked eagerly.

"Well enough. He didn't freak out, at least." Pearl shrugged. "And he didn't call me an honorary sister or anything like that, so that's one possible issue averted."

"Now we wait?" Storm asked, sounding a bit annoyed.

"Now I back off a little, but not entirely," Pearl agreed. "I can't chase him too persistently. That feels like me trying to force him."

"What do you call everything else you have done?" Storm asked.

"Giving him a chance to figure it out," Pearl quickly clarified. "I let him know it's his choice, and now he gets to make it. I won't act like he's already said no, but I won't act like he's said yes yet either."

"Acting like he has already said yes might convince him," Storm grumbled. "But I see your point."

Pearl shuddered. "Did you really think I would make unwanted advances? Me?" Pursuing an unaware target was one thing. If he really didn't want her, she was not going to press the issue any further. She was not Claw. The very idea hurt.

"This will be fun to watch," Storm chortled.

O-O-O-O-O

The next day, bright and early, everyone set out, headed after Drago's forces. It had been decided that they would just fly a day behind, and send out scouts every once in a while to be sure the dark armada was still on its expected path. They knew this route better than Drago himself probably did, having flown it multiple times, so following along without ever being seen would be easy enough.

The first scout was Pearl, who camouflaged and presumably flew ahead, while the rest of them flew at a slower, easier pace. Even flying slowly, they would be moving faster than the armada, so there really wasn't any need to hurry.

Ember knew he should be using this time to think about Pearl, and what she wanted. But he couldn't really concentrate. The revelation was too fresh. He could think about that later.

Right now, he had something else on his mind, something less important in some ways, but just as vital in others.

Valka. He could see her from here, riding Beryl and staring out at the sea. She had been moody recently, and distant besides, but he could tell that wasn't normal, because she got worse every day. At the rate they were going, she'd be as depressed as he had been not long ago-

He shuddered, flying just a little bit faster, as if to escape that memory. Never again. He knew all too well that he had not actually conquered that depression. Finding out his family was still alive had rid him of it. But he knew enough now to be confident of his ability to fight it off in the future, if it ever reared its insidious and ugly head again.

Valka might not know how to do that, and it was entirely possible she would need to know in the immediate future. He would not lecture her; he had absolutely no room to talk about not letting worry and depression get one down, but he could at least sound her out.

That would involve getting her alone, as while he would not mind involving Beryl, something told him Valka might. So he flew under Beryl, and barked up at him, "mind dropping Valka to me, if she wants? I'd like to speak to her."

"Valka?" Beryl asked politely.

"Sure, why not?" Valka immediately slid off of Beryl, and Ember barely got under her in time. "Whoops, thought you were ready."

"Lucky I'm fast," Ember grumbled, slowing down to let everyone else pass them. Privacy in the air really just meant flying far enough away that nobody could overhear them, which was easy enough to do with the relaxed pace of this trip.

He did not speak immediately, letting the both of them enjoy the air for a while. Valka ended up being the one to break the silence.

"I'm not very good at this," she began quietly. "I know you said we can start over, but I'm just screwing it up again."

That was not where Ember had expected this conversation to go. "What?"

"We've been working together for weeks now, and I never even bothered trying to get to know you," she fretted. "I just…"

"Have something else on your mind?" If nothing else, he understood that. "It's fine. I haven't made much of an effort until now, either."

"Yes, but it's not your job to do that, it's mine," Valka countered. "I've found my son, and he's probably the most interesting person in the world, and I just… I don't know where to start, or what to say."

"And you can't really think about it, because the worry at the back of your mind won't let you," Ember guessed, feeling that same worry, albeit over a less terrible situation.

"Exactly." Valka sighed. "I can't concentrate on something good and fun while the Stormcutter is in so much danger, and a slave of that no-good Bewilderbeast."

"He is a close friend," Ember said, not really guessing. It was obvious. "Believe me, I know the feeling." If that was Beryl down there, he'd be even less able to focus than Valka was right now. He certainly wouldn't be able to do anything fun without feeling guilty in the process.

"So don't try," he offered. "I get it. We can get to know each other after this is over. Believe me, I've got my own things to think about, too. Neither of us is at our best right now."

"What do you have to think about?" Valka asked curiously. "You have no stake in this, really. I'm grateful for the help, don't get me wrong, but you and your family could just fly away now. Nothing holds you to seeing this through."

"You saved my sons and Sire; we will return the favor," Ember said confidently. "My worries are not related to Drago or Viggo."

"So what are they?"

A moment of silence passed between them. Ember wasn't sure if he wanted to let Valka in on this decision. She might be able to offer advice…

But this was something he needed to figure out about himself. It was his responsibility.

"It's nothing. Just trying to figure something out." He shook his head, ridding himself of his doubts. No need to trouble Valka with this.

They flew on in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Ember turned his mind back to Pearl, and began to think.

O-O-O-O-O

The weeks passed. The Furies and human trailed Drago's forces from afar, high and distant behind the scattered clouds. Winter had not fully passed yet, but it was loosening its grip.

Spark was optimistic, as usual. He was sure that everything would work out... including what Beryl had finally told him about. That would work out too.

Beryl was more pragmatic, watching his brother and the rest of the group, ensuring that no one got spotted. Drago's men were not in the habit of watching the distant skies, but it was best to be safe.

He watched Pearl and Ember too, but Pearl was acting honorably. She did not change her habits, still sleeping close to Ember, but she did not relentlessly pursue him or try to talk him into a decision either. Beryl wasn't sure why both Ember and Pearl seemed resigned to not resolving the question for the time being, but there was an understanding there, so he did not interfere.

He also didn't feel like getting another ear-scorching scolding from Thorn, which might have stayed his paw a bit more firmly. Not that he hadn't deserved that last one. He admitted that freely. He had been out of line. That didn't mean he wanted another if he could avoid it.

Herb remained aware but aloof, not seeing any reason to intervene. His son would make a choice, and it would be the right one. He had faith in that. At least now it was out in the open. He had seen signs of attraction from both of them before now, and that kind of thing, left unacknowledged, could cause issues. This was a good way to prevent that, even if what they were doing now was oddly pointless, not answering the question so much as ignoring it. He would not meddle.

As for his issues with Storm... he tried to ignore that she avoided him, but it hurt. That wound didn't look like it would heal. But it was his fault. He had to live with the consequences of his mistake.

Storm divided her spare time evenly between two pursuits. The fun one was watching Pearl and Ember. Ember was so flustered and confused, while Pearl was just being herself. It was funny in the same way that a fledgling struggling to walk was funny. Entertaining as long as the fledgling got it sooner or later. If it did not, the humor turned into pity and worry.

Her other occupation was a bit less light-hearted. She was feeling more and more guilty about keeping away from Herb, but something in her wouldn't let go. He had lied to her. She spent quite a bit of time trying to put herself in his pawprints, but it didn't work. Maybe if she could have felt his emotions for a moment, like Pearl had done by accident with the alpha. She and Pearl had reached an understanding before that, but Storm now found it impossible to see the Light Fury with anything other than awe, having felt that terrible idea of not even being able to comprehend rebellion. Seeing Pearl learn that resistance was possible was an inspiring sight, and this entire deal with Ember was like watching a blind hatchling see for the first time. Pearl had gone from timid and mostly passive, acting out what her rotten Dam had taught, to taking charge and actually asserting herself, while not disrespecting Ember's free will either. To go from not even understanding having a choice to freely manipulating a difficult situation to give choice to both parties involved was an impressive progression.

Storm knew that she needed to forgive, but something was stopping her. Struggling with that occupied the empty hours.

Thorn reveled in her freedom, relishing the feeling of her atrophied muscles regaining their former size and strength, knowing that she was slowly but surely recovering. She remained optimistic that her daughters, true and honorary, would resolve their issues soon. In the meantime, she was there for whoever needed her, from her mate, who struggled to believe Storm could forgive, to Ember, who had come to her with excuses several times, clearly seeking her advice but not able to ask in this matter. She never let on that she knew what was occurring between him and Pearl, and simply reassured him that he could do the right thing. As she didn't truly know what the right thing for him was, that was the best she could do.

Pearl stayed close to Ember, and simply hoped he would figure things out. She had struggled with her own heart to determine the truth. Now he was doing the same. She could only wait, reassure him through action that she wanted him but respected his decision, whatever it would be, and pass the time.

Ember? Ember worried, argued with himself, and generally fretted the entire trip. The question was whether or not he could let Flint go, and the answer would not come to him. He did realize, over the course of the trip, that Pearl was very serious, but that just made him feel worse. Could he even let go of Flint enough to honorably accept Pearl? It would be terrible to be with Pearl, all while thinking of his last mate. Better to let Pearl go find someone who could fully accept her.

His fractured mind argued over the issue the entire trip.

Valka, riding each Fury in turn, spent the trip worrying about what would occur at Viggo's island. This plan was insane, with far too many possible points of failure, but it was all they had... and it had worked pretty well so far. She had to trust the rest would work out.

She remained mostly unaware of the specifics of the various issues between Furies, but picking up on subtleties was a talent she had sharpened over the years. There was tension and guilt between Storm and her father, and there was a lot of tension of a different kind between Ember and Pearl.

Valka stayed out of that, for several reasons. Past experience with both Vikings and dragons had taught her that one did not get involved in matters of the heart, but she also felt she had no right to interfere here. Ember might technically be her son, but it did not escape Valka's notice that he went to Thorn with his worries. Valka knew she had given up that right a long time ago.

She could still be a friend. That would have to be enough. And she would be that, once there were no distractions preventing her from focusing on him. He was understanding enough to let her put that off, but she still felt bad about it. That could not be helped. Other things needed to be resolved first.

All in all, there was a lot going on under the surface as they traveled. But all of that was put on hold as Drago's forces neared Viggo's island. Islands began to become rare. Shelter became difficult. the rare sea stack the only thing making the trip to Viggo's island doable for a dragon.

Trouble was coming. A storm these Furies had started, and one that had quickly grown out of hand. Many powers were going to clash soon. What happened then was up in the air.


	25. Disappointment

The day was cloudy, the sun a slight circle of lighter grey on the blanket that covered the sky. Winter's last gasp, a final resurgence of the cold wind and darkness of the season. The sea was rolling, high waves and low troughs alternating, beating against the island, the sea stacks, and the boats approaching from afar.

Below the surface, the weather did not hold sway. The water was calm, cold, and always moving. Something was stirring down there, but even his huge bulk did no more in passing than stir the water a bit more vigorously than usual. Below, nothing changed.

Above, in the world of men and most dragons, much changed, constantly. The island as a whole was arming itself, preparing the defensive weaponry, and eating a final meal. They had prepared for this day, more feverishly than ever once Viggo received the message, and now it was here.

Viggo? He was in a new place, a tower built in the center of the island, a place of seeing what happened afar. That was not the only new thing, nor the most ambitious, but the rest was not there. He had set his many, many plans into motion, and the game was beginning.

Literally. Viggo left several hunters there with orders to tell him when Drago's ships could be seen. He then moved back to his command post and placed a model ship on the outskirts of the large model of the island and its defenses. All was in order.

The sea stacks around the island, those outposts against invasion, were mostly empty. Viggo had not deemed it a viable strategy to man them fully, not when Drago had such a force. The sea stack outposts were mostly for surveillance, and in the face of a full-on attack- they were indefensible. The innermost ring, however, being fortified and armed with heavy weaponry, catapults and ballista, was occupied and ready.

No matter from which direction Drago's ships approached, they would be met with defensive fire.

Those same ships were even now approaching, not bothering with such a thing as subtlety, heading straight for the island, disregarding its defenses, or so it seemed. They would soon be in range of the manned outposts, and the battle would begin.

A threatening ripple in front of Drago's warship was the only sign of the Bewilderbeast, a deceptively simple harbinger of doom, one that could be easily missed, unlike that which it foretold.

Another sign of the approaching doom resided inside each and every cage on the decks of the entire fleet, present in the blank eyes of dragons of all kinds, sizes, and ages. They were tools to be used by the Bewilderbeast, nothing more.

One could say much the same of the soldiers crewing those ships, the ones readying their weapons for battle. Tools, used by Drago to eliminate opposition. They did not see themselves as such, but it was still the truth. Drago saw tools, just as Viggo saw game pieces on the board. Neither considered the individual soldier important, only the goal and the larger picture.

There was one creature aboard Drago's ship who was a tool in truth and in his own mind. Second had admitted that long ago. He had served his alpha without question. It was all that made him better than his brother, who had fled long ago.

But now that had changed. There were other things that made him better than Third. He had not forced himself upon Thorn, regardless of instinct or Drago's wishes. That made him better. Regardless, he was now Third in title, despite every effort to make himself better. That was disillusioning.

He had begun to question his own actions, which a tool did not do. Storm had begun to break down Second's barriers, and Ember's words had broken them further. Thorn too had contributed. Second was no longer sure of Drago's right to command.

Drago knew none of this, though the Bewilderbeast, having his hooks in Second's mind, could have told him. The Bewilderbeast was not in the habit of speaking to Drago unless it was important.

Another blow to Second's confidence in Drago, though it was too late to help in breaking his will to obey. The Bewilderbeast defied Drago, though Drago did not know it, and got away with it. Any true alpha would have noticed and brought down the challenge to his authority.

Drago was not a true alpha, but neither was the Bewilderbeast, for it bowed, however reluctantly, to Drago. An alpha bowed to no one.

But Second still had to follow both of them, for he was powerless. Drago and the orange Fury had taken away his physical freedom, and the Bewilderbeast his mental freedom, allowing him his own will almost as a taunt. He could feel it watching in the back of his mind even now, capable of retaking control in an instant if it desired. So his physical and mental freedom were both truly gone. The former might return with time, but the latter would not be recovered except at the death of a huge, long-lived titan of the ocean.

In other words, it wasn't happening. Second prowled Drago's largest ship, frustrated and conflicted, waiting for battle. At least he could tear into enemies with no question as to whether he should. Like he had with that idiot Krogan, attacking the invader. He had not at all minded an excuse to kill Krogan.

The ships drew closer and closer to the defenses. Minutes now, no longer hours or days. Far in the sky, high and out of reach of the Bewilderbeast's mental prodding, six Night Furies, one Light Fury, and one human watched, waiting.

O-O-O-O-O

Ember watched the scene below with trepidation. The time had come, and almost all of the result was now out of his hands. Out of all of their hands and paws. This was between Drago, Viggo, the Bewilderbeast, and their forces.

"Drago is making his first move," Beryl noted. "Rather, the Bewilderbeast is."

"Where?" Ember glanced down at the faraway battlefield. The ships, moving like dark shadows, were not close enough to any sea stacks to be attacked yet though he had been sure they were about to engage.

"There!" Beryl barked. "Another sea stack just went down, to the left of the lead ship."

Ember looked down and saw debris, men, and wood floating to the surface. There was no longer a sea stack. The Bewilderbeast had toppled it from under the water's surface.

"The first point goes to Drago, it seems," Ember noted aloud. "He will reach the island without interference from Viggo's outposts."

"Most of them, anyway," Storm agreed. "There are quite a few. Maybe he will not get to all of them before they fire off a shot or two."

Valka chuckled. "You overestimate the bravery of the average hunter."

Valka was right. Ember checked the remaining outposts nearby and saw several small ships putting off and abandoning the sea stacks at that very moment. It seemed no hunter wanted to risk death by freezing or drowning for a chance to put a hole in one of Drago's ships. The chance was a slim one anyway.

But so was the chances of getting to the island intact in those boats. Slim indeed.

Two tusks, long and stained, lurched from the water and smashed a boat, spilling the hunters within. Drago's fleet had yet to be touched, and Viggo's forces had already sustained a minor setback.

This was still only the opening moves of the game, but Ember was worried. He saw many new contraptions lining the cliffs and shores of Viggo's island, but none of them resembled anything that could kill the Bewilderbeast, or really even anything that could slow it. Then again, he didn't know what such a device would look like, so it was hard to tell.

Soon the last of the manned sea stacks was gone, and no hunter boats remained afloat in the water. Drago's fleet was nearing the defenses of the island itself, and Viggo had yet to do anything.

The fleet was also in range now. The Bewilderbeast had disappeared beneath the water, unseen and uninvolved, by the time the first volley of boulders and flaming spears arched through the sky.

The aim for this first volley was inaccurate but by lucky fluke one outlying ship was struck, a boulder tearing through the side with a wet crunch. It hit with far more force than Ember would have guessed, smashing powerfully.

"Something is off there," Ember remarked. "That hit really hard." Now that he looked at the catapults, the boulders waiting to be launched were oddly uniform, as if sculpted by the same hand. The same shade of grey too.

It hit him. "Viggo is using metal spheres as catapult ammunition." It was an amazingly wasteful technique, but as that shot had proven, an incredibly destructive one.

"So?" Spark did not seem impressed. "A big heavy thing is a big heavy thing, no matter what it is made of."

The second catapult volley launched, and four more metal projectiles found targets. That was really, really accurate for these weapons.

"No," Ember mused. "These are smooth, regular shots. It's improving their accuracy." An intelligent tactic, if one could afford it. Viggo clearly could.

All in all, Drago lost five ships by the time his fleet was too close to be targeted by catapults. Now his ships began firing back, their own catapults launching jagged boulders into the veritable city the defenders held. Buildings fell, and not much else. Viggo's defenses were spread out and there was no one place to target, unlike with the ships.

"What are those things?" Beryl asked no one in particular. "The metal ones on the beach there."

Ember looked down where Beryl was indicating. "You know, I'm not sure." Metal cylinders, tubes pointed out at the sea. Each had a hunter holding an ax behind it. At this distance, even with superior eyesight, the details were impossible to make out.

The first ship made landfall, grinding to a halt on the shore.

A hunter with an ax swung his weapon seemingly at the ground, his metal tube happening to be pointed directly at the ship, some twenty or so yards away.

The first soldiers jumped ship to land in the shallows-

The metal cylinder exploded from the end pointed at the ship, and the entire front of the ship was blasted with very familiar flames. Zippleback gas propelled out of the cylinder with massive force. Drago's soldiers dove for the shallows in disarray.

The battle was on in earnest now. On the ships that had yet to make landfall, cages were opened. Dragons flew into the sky, all moving as one to engage from behind, hitting the defending hunters in unison with Drago's soldiers.

"That's our cue!" Valka yelled, pointing at one four-winged silhouette. "We need him out of there before he gets killed or captured!"

Ember felt that they should want all of the enthralled dragons safe, but the Stormcutter was the first priority and a doable objective. "Yes, we do. Spark, Beryl, Herb?" The three who had no contact with Bewilderbeasts, and thus the three most suitable for the job.

Beryl swooped below Storm, who was carrying Valka, and Valka hopped off, landing astride him as he passed. The three Furies Ember had named dropped towards the battle below.

As they did, a roar shook the world. Ember looked to an unoccupied side of the island, disregarding the struggle on the beaches, to see the Bewilderbeast in full glory striding towards the island from another angle.

The plan became clear. Drago's men would secure a foothold, while the Bewilderbeast trashed the island. Whatever was left could be wiped away by Drago's forces. It was a good, simple plan.

Ember began to doubt that Viggo could take the Bewilderbeast out. It was massive and seemed beyond the reach of humankind to end.

O-O-O-O-O

Ragnarok, it seemed. Maybe to his hunters. Viggo was not inclined to believe any living thing unstoppable.

"Sector three!" he yelled at his personal guard. They followed him as he rushed to the named part of the island. Right towards the monstrosity Drago somehow commanded.

The Collector had certainly done Viggo a favor in both eliminating his power-hungry brother and sending a true warning so far ahead of the attack. He might need to thank her if he ever met her. This was not something his regular defenses could scratch.

Key words, there. Regular. There was a reason Viggo and his men were running towards the moving mountain and not away from it. His men trusted that he would not risk his own life needlessly, and he always had a plan. They were going to take it down.

They reached the emergency storehouse of sector three, and Viggo quickly unlocked it with a key he always kept on his person. These supplies were not ones he could afford to let fall into the wrong hands.

This was also why he stepped quickly to the side when the door opened. Three arrows shot out, and embedded themselves in the ground behind where he had been standing. He did not do more than glance at the oddly green arrowheads, knowing that they were fatally poisonous. Better the thief die than get their hands on...

Viggo grinned, pulling out a spherical glass jar. It was not glass, though it was partially clear and tinted blue. What was inside would eat away at almost anything, including normal glass, but for some reason was far less effective against crystal, which was what these containers were made of. He had been cautioned by the seller to buy many times the number of containers required to hold the acid, as it would eat through even this material given enough time.

He distributed the jars to his men, and then handed out the other type of weapon stored here. Strange spears, different in several respects to those used by his men in bulk. They were tipped with reinforced steel, and in a way that was reminiscent of small harpoons, curved to latch onto something, rather than to impale.

This would work. Viggo did not flinch at the sound of ice entombing part of his island. Some losses were expected. As long as the monstrosity's attention was on that which was around it, not that which was by its feet...

He took a spear and a jar of the acid himself, and led his men straight towards the beast. It was not his way to lead by example, but this was not something he trusted his soldiers to do without him. When his entire livelihood was at stake, he had to take risks.

Two questions bothered him, even as he saw the Bewilderbeast's front paw in the distance, crushing a small tavern. Why. Why did Drago suddenly decide to attack? Why did the Bewilderbeast do as Drago commanded? Both were questions he would need to be answered later, after this invasion was dealt with.

The heavily-scaled paw shifted. Viggo and his men froze in unison, waiting to see if it would move to crush them. Looking up revealed that the massive dragon was not looking down at them, but it was completely capable of stepping on them by accident.

The paw shifted forward and dug into the tavern more securely. It seemed they had a chance here. Viggo led the charge to the paw itself, remaining silent as he did.

His men all knew that they had to be quiet and followed his lead. As long as he appeared to have a plan, they would follow him to the ends of the world. Viggo Grimborn's plans never failed.

The paw itself would be a climb. Viggo stood beside it and latched the hooks of the spear onto the top edge of one massive scale.

There was no indication that the dragon felt anything. Perfect. He hauled himself up, stood on the edge of the huge scale, and proceeded to repeat the process. The hunters followed, awkwardly carrying the precious jars. In this way, they scaled the leg of the dragon as if it was a cliff.

One hunter slipped and fell, the jar held out in front of him. Viggo did not wince at the muffled crack of the hunter's back breaking, but the tinkle of shattered crystal did make him shudder. He imagined he could hear the sizzling from here.

He chanced a glance down. The crystal had shattered on the dead hunter's chestplate, which was now not so much a chestplate as it was a circle of metal, a neat hole eaten right through the armor, the tunic, and body below, now working on the ground below.

There was a reason this stuff was what would take down such a massive dragon. No matter how big something was, one only needed to take out one vital component to kill. This acid applied correctly, could do that.

In the time the Collector had bought him, Viggo had dug up many old records and located a description of this particular species. He was glad to see now that those descriptions were correct. They gave him the idea as to how to do this.

The side of the beast was scalable. They had gotten lucky. The beast was taking its time in freezing random parts of the island, apparently entertained by the destruction of Viggo's world.

Viggo knew that in doing this he was taking a risk even if he succeeded and survived. This operation needed him, but his defenses against Drago's more mundane forces, however innovative, might also require his guidance to ensure victory. But he would not be there. The rest of his forces would win or lose without him.

It all came back to this dragon. It needed to die for anything else to matter, and Viggo was the one for the job. No one else had studied this species, studied the ancient records. No one else could find a good place for the relatively small amount of acid they had.

Another hunter fell. Viggo cared more about the additional acid lost. He could lose men, but that acid was far more precious. Still, he held his silence. They could not be noticed. Not now.

O-O-O-O-O

Beryl swooped low, almost flying between buildings, scanning the skies above for the Stormcutter. Spark and Herb followed his lead.

The pressure in his head was stronger now, but still bearable. It helped that the Bewilderbeast was distracted, freezing pockets of resistance composed of hunters who manned the larger weaponry still operational and pointed the right way. Ballista spears did no damage whatsoever, but they did give the large dragon a convenient target.

Distracted, it seemed, was not a condition that applied to the Bewilderbeast's thralls on the other paw. Beryl dodged a Nadder's spine, shot from above. The alpha might not be capable of sparing the concentration to make a play for Beryl's mind at the moment, but he had clearly noticed the uncontrolled Night Furies entering the fray.

"There!" Valka yelled. Beryl huffed in frustration.

"By the tower," she clarified when it became obvious Beryl didn't have the time to look back and guess where she was pointing.

He angled around towards the mentioned landmark and spotted the Stormcutter in the process, along with several other dragons. The hunters being attacked were fighting back, and even as Beryl watched a Gronckle went down to thrown nets.

Then the Stormcutter went down. Valka yelled incoherently in Beryl's ears as the Stormcutter faltered and dropped out of the sky, an arrow sticking out of his stomach. Those tranquilizer arrows were the biggest source of casualties in the Bewilderbeast's ranks of thralls, and the Stormcutter had just fallen to them.

At that moment, Beryl inwardly debated the correct course of action. He could go for it and risk being caught, or he could pull up. Spark and Herb were following his lead.

That decided it. He wasn't risking all three of them, especially given they couldn't lift the Stormcutter. He pulled up, ignoring Valka's objections, and watched as the Stormcutter was thrown into another of those annoying cages.

"Stop it!" He roared back at his rebellious passenger who was still yelling in his ears. "He's safe now even if we didn't get him! We can't pull him out like that!"

"Drop me off," Valka ordered in a calm tone. "I'm staying with his cage until this is over."

"The hunters might object," Beryl remarked sarcastically.

"No, they won't." Valka sighed. "I'll stay out of sight. But we'll never find him if we let him out of sight now. There are thousands of those cages, and all it will take to lose him is one hunter deciding to move his."

Beryl couldn't argue with that. "Meet us on an abandoned sea stack as soon as the Bewilderbeast falls, if it does. If not, we'll come for you."

Valka didn't answer.

"You both," Beryl sighed. "Even if he's still under control." That was a promise he wasn't sure how to keep if it came to that, but Valka was accepting nothing less.

"Good enough." Valka hunched over on Beryl's back and abruptly swung off onto the roof of a building as he passed. "Go get out of here!" She called to him as he left.

"Why did you leave her?" Spark asked, he and Herb catching up with Beryl as he slowed for a moment.

"She will watch over her friend. We just have to hope that-"

A pulse. Beryl felt it wash over his mind, this time finding the right places to push. It was much harder to resist now. The alpha had found a free moment, it seemed. He faltered midair, inwardly resisting but knowing it wouldn't last.

O-O-O-O-O

"I felt that!" Pearl yelled to Ember. "Beryl and the others are in trouble!"

Ember could see that. His sons and Sire were slowing, moving stiffly. They were fighting it, but they wouldn't hold on for long, not with the Bewilderbeast concentrating on them. He made a snap decision.

"I'm going in to distract him!" Ember yelled. "Don't follow!"

He dived, intent on the Bewilderbeast. The sounds of other diving Furies grated on his ears. They were moving too fast for him to question Pearl, Storm, and Thorn, but he would have liked to chew them out for following. He could shift into his human form if the pressure was turned on him. They had no such escape.

But the pressure, it quickly became apparent, was already on. He almost lost control as soon as he broke into the range of the Bewilderbeast, only barely holding it out. Pearl, Storm, and Thorn, on the other hand, dropped like flies. It was unclear whether they had fallen to the Bewilderbeast's control or simply fallen out of strain inherent in holding it off, but they were out of it, lying amid the streets and buildings, mercifully out of the main bulk of the fighting, safe for the moment.

Something rose in Ember's heart at the quickly-glimpsed sight of his sister, Dam, and... whatever Pearl was, along with his sons and Sire, all struggling or hurt because of this monster. He easily pushed the Bewilderbeast's power back, knowing that it would eventually break through, sooner rather than later, but incensed enough at the moment to buy a little more time.

But what to use that time for? He wanted to go to his family, to find them among the streets and bring them to safety. Somehow. Pearl especially; she was no fighter, and his heart ached at the thought of her getting hurt in the fight.

The thing stopping him from doing that was a simple fact. They had fallen because of the Bewilderbeast. He didn't even want to think about what might be happening in their minds right now. Logically, he should go for the Bewilderbeast. Once it was down, he could go for Pearl.

And the others, too. Why did Pearl come to mind first? Maybe because she was the most helpless; not that she was helpless, she could take care of herself in normal circumstances, but this was not normal. Storm was a fighter in spirit and probably experienced with combat, while Thorn was wily and practical. Of all three of them, Pearl needed the help the most. That was why. Only that.

Thus, while the Bewilderbeast was distracted, Ember landed on its lower back and shifted to his human form. The pressure eased, and he took a brief moment to clear his head, knowing the massive dragon wouldn't feel him where he was, and would not be able to hit him with an ice blast. He needed a way to end it, but...

The Bewilderbeast was powerful, and it would take a human to kill it now. No dragon could stay free and coherent long enough.

A man... like the ones he saw on the upper back, heading into the shadowed alcove between that crown of spines and the Bewilderbeast's neck?

Viggo. Ember laughed hollowly and struck out towards the group. It seemed his bet on Viggo's intelligence finding a way might not have been a mistake. Time to help out an enemy. What was the saying?

The enemy of his enemy was his friend. At least at the moment.

O-O-O-O-O

Viggo cursed angrily as another man slipped and fell, his acid going with him. The Bewilderbeast was moving now, and while they had to advance to get anywhere near stopping it, moving meant he lost people. There were only seven men left, not counting himself. Barely enough acid if he found the perfect spot.

Another slipped, sliding down the dragon's back. The hunter glanced off of a scale and dropped off the side, still holding the acid-

Only to be caught by a shadowed figure, a human figure, barely holding on. A weak figure, for the hunter was slipping.

"Give him the acid!" Viggo yelled desperately. They needed that acid! How or why help was here didn't matter.

The hunter frantically batted at his rescuer's arm with the jar, looking up with pleading eyes. The rescuer looked down at him helplessly and maneuvered himself to secure the acid between his knees, refusing to let go.

Viggo was intensely grateful to his own foresight for drilling into his personal guards' heads that his plans were more important than their lives. It had just, potentially, saved this mission just as surely as the stranger who was impossibly up here with them.

The Bewilderbeast lurched, and the stranger lost his grip. The hunter fell. But the acid was safe.

Viggo made eye contact with the oddly familiar stranger as he made his way to them, maneuvering awkwardly along the scales with only a single hand free to hold on with. The man moved with no fear, as if a fall could not hurt him, and made it to them quickly, out of luck not being dislodged in his risky movements.

"Fancy meeting you here!" The man called out.

Viggo recalled where he had heard that voice and put his memories together. "Get over here, Ember!" There was no time to ask questions.

"This stuff will kill it?" Ember asked, hoisting his jar.

"If we put it at the base of its spine, over there," Viggo confirmed, pointing to the shadowed alcove they were approaching. The entire group began to move towards it again.

In a minute they passed under the first of the massive spikes. Almost there.

Ember frowned at their destination. "Looks awfully thick. How strong is this stuff?"

"Strong enough, but only just with how much we have left." Viggo grimaced, unable to stop himself. "Why are you up here?"

"I was in the area, and this guy got my attention," Ember replied angrily. "I can't kill him, but I figured you might have something going that could use a hand."

Viggo smiled slyly. "A common enemy?" He knew that feeling and had used it to rid himself of several enemies in times past.

"A jerk who likes to mess with minds and follows Drago's orders, so yes." They had reached the base of the spikes.

Viggo pulled his concentration to the scales under them. The old texts had been clear; there would at the very point where the spine joined the skull be a bulge and no scales. The center of that bulge was a weak point.

Then he saw a complication. "That spike is in the way," Viggo announced. There was a half-grown spike growing out of the bulge itself, covering the center. The acid would not be enough to eat away at it too.

"Lucky I'm here," Ember grunted, sizing up the spike, as if unaware of just how scrawny he was compared to it, half-grown though it was. "Stand back, this thing might snap off."

Viggo wisely stepped back, recalling the bent bars of a cage so long ago now. The part of him that hated mysteries was glad Ember was here if only to see this particular mystery solved.

Ember held out his hands and closed his eyes. "You know," he remarked conversationally even as scars on his hands began to glow, "I should thank you, Viggo. It's your fault I can hold it like this."

That was a remark Viggo was going to have to examine later. He watched closely as blue flames flooded out of Ember's palms. Surely he wasn't going to try and burn the spike?

No. Ember pushed at it, at chest-level, and the spike bent slightly.

Looking closely, Viggo could see that Ember wasn't even touching the spike. Only the flames were, gradually blackening the off-white surface as Ember pushed. That was very interesting...

"It's not budging... much," Ember admitted, still pushing. "Is there a place you can cut around while I hold it like this?"

That was a good suggestion. The spike was shifting beneath the surface of the Bewilderbeast's skin, and it couldn't go very deep if it was growing on top of a bone. Viggo carefully moved beside Ember and knelt at the base of the spike.

Yes, there was a place there. "Here!" He called to his men. "Pour it here." He made a cut in the tough skin, digging a small channel for the acid, and did as he had ordered. The light blue liquid sizzled and popped, eating away at the flesh.

Ember held the spike bent away as if it weighed nothing. "I can only hold this for so long," he remarked casually.

"Hold it." Viggo was not going to hurry this, though the operation did require some element of speed. The Bewilderbeast would feel this soon.

His six hunters poured the acid into the rapidly deepening hole Viggo had created, and Viggo took the final jar from Ember, adding the last of it.

Ember stepped to the side and the spike popped back into place with a sound akin to a dislocated bone being relocated. Sickening but right in some way.

The deed was done. Viggo immediately refocused his priorities on surviving the next few minutes. "Brace yourselves!" He led by example, wedging himself between two of the spines. His hunters followed suit.

Ember stood on the now shifting back of the Bewilderbeast, unconcerned. His eyes met Viggo's.

"You're not natural." Viggo said it calmly, knowing in some instinctive way that Ember did not intend to kill him at the moment. It was like looking into the eyes of a predator from behind bars... only the predator had put the bars up and could just as easily tear them down. Viggo had long ago mastered his own emotions, but this made him very uneasy. How had he never noticed the age in this boy's eyes?

"I was cursed a while back," Ember admitted conversationally. "This is just a side effect."

That was very interesting. "Did you ever find what you came for?" Best to know if Ember still needed something he could provide.

The Bewilderbeast moved, tilting. A questioning growl escaped it, shaking the earth. Viggo had no idea how this would feel. It was possible the large dragon wouldn't notice such a small pain. It was efficient, the smallest possible injury that could kill.

"Yeah, I found her." Ember smiled coldly. "Know this Viggo. You are a dragon hunter. If I ever see you again, I'll kill you."

With that, Ember walked out onto the open back, and the blue flames engulfed his entire body.

"I don't like people who hunt my family." Those words ended in an inhuman snarl, even as the fires changed, as if covering a changing body. An orange Night Fury flew off into the sky, wheeling around out of sight.

Viggo had to work hard to maintain his neutral, unworried expression. Ember was, as his instinct had suggested, very dangerous. A man cursed with another body, half man and half dragon? Why would that even be a curse? And who could do such a thing in the first place?

There was not enough information to solve this puzzle. But Viggo left no puzzle unsolved. He would, if he survived all of this, have to figure out how to draw Ember back, trap him, and determine all of his secrets, regardless of whether or not Ember survived the process. It was just what Viggo did, how his world worked. No stone left unturned.

The Bewilderbeast reared, roaring loud enough to deafen him, and thrashed powerfully. The acid was doing its work, and it could be felt now.

Viggo smiled grimly, only hanging on because he had wedged himself in so tightly as to be stuck. The spike was acting as a cap, though it was not perfect. Enough acid remained to do the job… hopefully.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl opened her eyes slowly, feeling as if her head had been struck with a heavy rock.

_'You are mine. No tricks this time.'_

No, she was not. Let him see all of her pain, all of the horror that was her past! She shoved those memories at the tendrils, and the tendrils accepted them.

There was no relief.

_'This time I am ready. Your agonies do not hurt me. But I can hurt you with them. Submit.'_

No. She wouldn't give over any control of her life to this alpha! She had lost enough of her life to the first!

_'I can make you relive them. It is easier to control with happy memories and easiest when subjects listen willingly, but I can make your life an endless replay of those season-cycles. Submit, or be left to this alpha male over and over again, for as long as you live. I win either way.'_

She trembled at that promise. It was too sure to be a threat. Could she bear that? To be locked into those memories, while her body did as told anyway? She didn't have a choice.

Storm came to mind, looking confused. There was always the choice to defy. To take control. She just wasn't looking for it.

No, Pearl decided angrily. Let the alpha do his worst! There was nothing in those memories she had not survived the first time around. She would not give in.

_'Very well.'_

The world around her faded to black.

O-O-O-O-O

Storm struggled to her feet, the world spinning around her.

_'Submit.'_

"I would rather die," she hissed, barely able to see, she was so dizzy.

_'Too bad...'_

A surge of mental pressure made her stagger, and the spinning increased.

_'You no longer have a choice.'_

The spinning sped up, and the world spun away from Storm's grasp, fading before her eyes.

O-O-O-O-O

Thorn pawed at her head, curled up into a ball, fighting with all her strength against something she could not see or attack physically. She knew what it was, but her mental defenses were almost gone, and that was before the Bewilderbeast had focused on her.

_'I have them. Your daughter and the light female. Submit, and I might not mate them with the finless dark wing.'_

Thorn howled wordlessly, unable to do anything more. It had to be a lie, but she could not resist any longer…

"Promise," Thorn gasped.

 _'I promise,'_ the Bewilderbeast agreed.

Thorn stopped fighting, hating herself for giving in, but sure she was making the right choice. If the rest of her family could not save them, then at least she had taken the worst fate for herself, and herself alone.

She could feel the moment control was wrestled from her no longer resisting mind. Her body moved of its own accord, getting to its feet.

_'I lied.'_

A moment later, everything went black, a mercy to Thorn's devastated mind.

O-O-O-O-O

Ember, having just left the Bewilderbeast's back, was already feeling the mental pressure. He knew it was going to stop soon, as the Bewilderbeast was thrashing now, but it was still painful.

Looking down on the dying monster, Ember wondered about the lesser monster safely secured among its spines. Viggo's plan was brilliant, crazy, and sadistic. The man had coldly ordered his hunter to hand over the acid, even as that same hunter dangled, slipping from Ember's grip. Viggo sold thousands of dragons without a second thought, and struck to kill without warning. It was pretty clear the man had no morals or empathy.

Viggo needed to go, if Ember could catch him after this, but Ember had balked at killing the man so soon after working with him to stop their mutual enemy.

It would be best, Ember decided, if Viggo did not survive the Bewilderbeast's death throes. Even better if his empire expired soon after.

Ember circled around, still watching the Bewilderbeast. It was still thrashing, smashing buildings with its head, dragging that large mass of head spikes along the ground-

Now coming to a rest, as if exhausted, stopping with its head on the ground. A few moments passed in which it was still.

It was going to die. The mental pressure was still pretty strong, but it was weakening.

Then the Bewilderbeast got up. It roared mightily and began to shamble forward, desperately forging ahead.

Ember followed from a distance, confused. What was it doing? He had expected more thrashing, death throes. Wasn't the acid hurting it any more?

_'Pain…'_

Ember's own mental walls were falling, despite his strength. Despite its physical predicament, the Bewilderbeast was still pushing, and now it was getting through, more and more with every second. He needed to concentrate to fight it-

A full-strength plasma blast struck Ember in the midsection, throwing him from the sky. He howled in pain, diving to avoid two more and just barely escaping what could have been a fatal ambush, crashing into an open street and skidding to a halt. His chest ached, but nothing was broken.

He stumbled to his feet just before two horribly familiar dragons dropped down in front of him, stalking forward. Thorn and Storm, both with slitted eyes and impersonal, terrible glares. They were enthralled.

_'Why will it not stop!'_

Ember ignored the Bewilderbeast's frantic mental cry, knowing that he needed to focus. The Bewilderbeast was going to die soon, but that wouldn't matter if he was dead when that time came. He leaped to the side just before Thorn blasted him again, faltering as his side ached.

Time. He needed to buy time. Killing Thorn or Storm was out of the question, and both were attacking, clearly not in control of-

A large crash echoed in the distance, one reminiscent of something heavy dropping into water. A moment later, both Storm and Thorn stopped, freezing where they stood.

Ember heaved a huge sigh of relief. The Bewilderbeast was dying now, losing control.

Something nagged at the back of his mind, though. What was it?

If the Bewilderbeast was dying… why was the pressure in his mind not going away?

_'I cannot move my own body. Maybe that will pass. At least now I can focus.'_

Ember felt his body collapse as the mental pressure increased tenfold. He wheezed as his injured side hit the ground, but his mind was not on physical pain.

_'Strong, so strong, but susceptible. Whatever your strangeness is, it falls before my power eventually, as all things do.'_

No! Ember strained to push back, but the Bewilderbeast was somehow stronger than before, far stronger. Storm and Thorn began to move again, but they did nothing aside from circling him slowly. Waiting.

_'All of my will, against all of yours. I can split my attention, but I can focus too, now. Submit. You stand no chance.'_

Ember could feel it pushing, breaking barriers he had built, disturbing the delicate balance his mind held.

_'What..?'_

Now it was pushing lightly against his memories, against the strangeness in his mind, the void. The void that let him do what he did, the void Vithvarandi had forced into him.

The Bewilderbeast stared into the void and lightly prodded it. It stared back.

Then the void in Ember's head spread onto the tendrils touching it.

Ember was distantly aware of a horrible, echoing cry too loud to be called a screech, but too high-pitched to be a roar.

_'What is this?!'_

The void pushed further, creeping along the Bewilderbeast's mental tendrils, and then stopped. It did not leave Ember's mind.

Ember did not understand what he was feeling, or what was happening to his own mind. He had not thought the void capable of anything more than what he used it for. All he knew was that, despite its apparent unease, despite the void's strange and apparently ineffective interference, the Bewilderbeast was still eroding his last defenses. And he couldn't stop it.

_'You scare me; you should not be like this. But you still fall like anyone else!'_

One final push, and his control was gone. His body was not his own.

But the void did not stop moving. Far from it. It rushed out across all of the Bewilderbeast's mental tendrils, holding them in place, trapping them.

_'Stop!'_

The tendrils shuddered, but they could not pull back.

_'What is happening?'_

Time passed. Ember was not in control of himself, but the Bewilderbeast was not doing anything, either. The void seemed content to hold the Bewilderbeast-

Hold. Keep. Obtain. Ember's thoughts flashed to what the void did. It kept other forms. It stored them, and in the beginning, it had almost killed him because it did not have another form to hold.

He wasn't sure if it could think. In fact, he was pretty sure it wasn't self-aware. But if he had to describe the void, he would call it greedy.

It wasn't going to let go.

_'I cannot reach out to new minds.'_

And it seemed the Bewilderbeast was coming to the same conclusion.

_This horrible thing is crippling me, holding me to it. I do not know how to pull back. How is it strong enough to keep me?'_

Ember's body stood and flared his wings experimentally.

_'I still have complete control of all those I have taken already. All is not lost. I can figure out how to break free later.'_

A moment of still silence.

_'These bodies will have to do for now.'_

All faded to black.

**_Author's Note:_ Oh boy, things went bad fast.**

**By the way, in case anyone's wondering, the void didn't do anything to previous mental intrusions because they were either too weak (pretty much everything but the Bewilderbeasts), too subtle to be 'noticed' (the good Bewilderbeast), or both. I will say no more on the subject.**

**Also, for the record, this chapter did change slightly. Well, far more than slightly, this chapter was rewritten four times in total. But the change I am referring to was a done a week after posting, one Whisperingwarrior brought to my attention; mainly, that Ember didn't seem to care all that much that Pearl had fallen. That was a leftover from when the dragons falling had been far less friendly and not Furies, in a different version of the fight. So yes, in case anyone is wondering, sometimes my rewriting process involves copying and pasting from past versions of the story, to recreate a vague outline and highlight what needs to change. My mistake was in not remembering to highlight that scene and remind myself to correct it for the changing context. (My in-progress documents for some stories that require rewriting, specifically Living Anonymously, look absolutely terrible sometimes, thanks to this exact style of copying fragments and putting virtual notes on them).**


	26. Damage

The world spun around Viggo as the Bewilderbeast thrashed, dragging its head through his precious empire in its agony. He was securely wedged between two of the many spikes jutting out from the massive dragon's head like a natural crown, but several of his men were not so well-secured, and fell into the horrible destruction happening below them as the dragon dragged its head along the ground.

This was a lot of damage. It was going to take months to fix everything, assuming Viggo survived to have anything fixed at all.

But, as the seconds passed and the Bewilderbeast continued to flail, still with its head and back tilted to the side, Viggo realized something terrible.

The acid ate down, and expended itself in the process. But now, down was not towards the dragon's spine and vitals. Down was to the side, through flesh and bone, but not in the right direction.

This wasn't going to kill it.

Viggo's plans abruptly shifted. He looked out from between the two spines keeping him aboard the enemy dragon, and mentally measured the distance from where he was to the ground. He had to get off of this dragon before the acid used itself up. Once the dragon recovered from the pain, it would stand upright, and make getting off much harder, if not outright impossible.

But he was too high up. Viggo grimaced, understanding his options and not liking them. He could jump from here and probably die, or he could try to climb down what was now a vertical maze of thin platforms, down through the spike crown, and hopefully get low enough that falling would not be fatal. Either way, he had to get off.

Climb it was, then. Viggo pushed himself out from between the two spikes that had secured him, and only barely managed to grab one before falling down, clinging to one of the spikes.

This was going to be difficult. The only thing that made it doable at all was that the Bewilderbeast had stopped thrashing for the moment.

No time for safety. Viggo let go of the spike above him and landed on the one directly below, and then immediately slid to the side, hitting another a few feet down. It was more of a controlled fall than a climb, but he was moving fast, descending rapidly enough that he might actually make it down. Bruised in every possible place, but alive nonetheless.

Viggo grimaced as a particularly long fall jolted every bone in his body. He did not like improvising. Even for him, planning on the fly was messy and imperfect. He might be a genius capable of outthinking anything that lived, but that took time, and improvising lacked exactly that.

Still, this plan was working. He was close enough to jump, now. The Bewilderbeast shifted-

And Viggo lost his grip, accidentally losing the chance to aim his descent anywhere but straight down. He fell the remaining distance and crashed through the ceiling of a small warehouse, falling awkwardly.

The jarring, bone-breaking impact he had been given a split second to prepare for never came. The ground was soft, underneath the tile roofing he had crashed through.

This warehouse stored… Viggo calculated where he was, wondering at the fact that he was still alive despite losing control.

Sails. This warehouse stored nothing but canvas sails. His fall had been broken by his own genius.

All according to plan. Viggo scrambled off of the pile of sailcloth that had saved his life and out the front entrance of the half-collapsed warehouse, quickly reorienting himself to run directly away from the Bewilderbeast. It was getting up now, and he wanted to be nowhere near it.

Moments later, a terrible sound split the air. A Night Fury's shriek, loud and unholy. Viggo slowed to a stop, looking around worriedly.

He was a planner, one who maneuvered and fought with his intellect. He had no plan for this.

Whatever this was. Viggo knew of only one Night Fury here… and that same Fury had promised to kill him if it ever saw him again. Ember.

There was movement behind him, and Viggo spun, drawing the short sword he always kept on his person for moments like this. But it was just a small group of his own men, who seemed as shocked to see him as he was to see them.

"Get me out of here," he immediately commanded. "To the command tower, if it's still standing." He needed to know what was going on.

O-O-O-O-O

Beryl watched in worried confusion as the Bewilderbeast thrashed, stilled, and then got up with apparent new purpose. He, Spark, and Herb had just returned to the air after dropping Valka off to watch over the captive and still enthralled Stormcutter.

"Where is it going?" Spark asked, sounding just as confused as Beryl was. "It is making a mess of this island."

It was, at that, rushing back the way it had come and crushing all before it. The mental pressure it always exerted was weaker now, but not gone, so Beryl and the other two dragons were not in much danger of being taken over imminently. They had a moment to watch.

"The water, apparently," Herb commented, as the Bewilderbeast splashed into the surf, lying on its side, part of it still on the beach. It sprawled there, its massive sides heaving, and stopped moving.

"So… it is not dead," Spark observed. "Right?"

"If the mental pressure stops, then it's dead," Beryl explained, feeling the pressure dropping even as he spoke. "Probably." He had no idea what Viggo or Ember had done, and actually, no idea where either of those two were right now, but something had happened, and one of them was probably responsible.

A few moments later, the Bewilderbeast spasmed and howled horribly, and the pressure was gone entirely, as if it had never existed.

"There." That was the main goal of all if this accomplished. "Let's go meet Valka and make sure she gets the Stormcutter out of this." Ember was more than capable of taking care of himself for the moment, and the females were still up above, safely out of the fight.

"Good idea," Herb agreed. "Where are they, again?"

Beryl led the way, and they swooped down into the street, passing over cages of captured dragons. All of these could be opened later; right now, getting the people he knew personally out of this place took precedence.

There, that was the cage group including the Stormcutter. Beryl blasted at the few men guarding the cages, easily scattering them, and landed, followed by Spark and Herb.

Valka stepped out of a shadowy corner nearby. "What are you doing?"

"The Bewilderbeast is dead; you can get the Stormcutter out of here now," Beryl explained, surprised Valka had not noticed yet.

"No, it's not," Valka objected, pointing to the cages behind them.

Beryl turned, and for the first time since he had landed, actually looked at the dragons in the cages. One Stormcutter, three Nightmares, and Zippleback.

All with narrowed eyes, slit pupils, and bared teeth. All staring silently. They were obviously still under the Bewilderbeast's control.

"Uhh…" Beryl hummed, entirely lost. What was going on?

"But it is not trying to take us over anymore," Spark said worriedly, seeing the same thing Beryl did. "It is lying motionless in the ocean."

"Is it?" Valka looked from the still-enthralled dragons, to Beryl, and then back again.

"Something is wrong," Herb snarled.

"Yes,very wrong," many voices agreed in unison. The enthralled dragons were all speaking, growls sounding from all the cages nearby, in unison. "But my alpha wants this island for himself, and I cannot afford to defy him until I figure out what has happened to me. This island will be wiped clean of resistance."

The Bewilderbeast was speaking to them, but it still wasn't trying to take them over. It agreed something was wrong, but it didn't care. And it knew where they were. It could control multiple dragons at once.

Beryl suddenly felt like he was being watched, and not just by the eyes he could see. He spun in a tight circle, looking for hidden eyes.

"I would rather have you as servants," the enthralled dragons hissed. "Submit to my alpha and allow him to cage you so that I may take you later, and you will live. Else, I must kill you, for I cannot take you right now."

Well… that explained why it was talking to them in the first place. Despite how strange things were getting, Beryl was still sure of his answer to that proposal. "Fat chance."

"Die, then." The enthralled dragons all opened their mouths-

Beryl leaped to tackle Valka out of the way, throwing the both of them into a side alley just as three different kinds of fires immolated where they had been standing. Even for a dragon, that much fire would have hurt, if not necessarily killed.

"Beryl!" Spark called out. "Valka!"

"Fine," Beryl coughed, letting Valka up. "We need to get away from these cages." There was no telling what else the Bewilderbeast might use its caged thralls for. Best to stay away from them.

Really, it would be best to attack the Bewilderbeast and finish the job. Beryl nudged Valka up towards his back, and she jumped on. In moments, they were in the air. Spark and Herb, singed but largely fine, joined them.

"Now what?" Spark asked worriedly. "It is not dead."

"We have much bigger problems," Herb snarled, looking out to sea. "Much, much, much bigger problems."

Beryl banked in the air to look at what was both enraging and alarming Herb. He didn't see it for a moment.

Then he did, and his heart sank in his chest. Storm, Thorn, and Pearl, circling stiffly over the still body of the Bewilderbeast. Awaiting further orders. He knew what that meant.

"Three on three," Herb snarled, his voice dark and cold. "And we cannot fight to kill. They… he… can."

Now what? Beryl searched his own mind for ideas, and came up with nothing.

Then, as if all of this wasn't enough, things got infinitely worse.

"Sire?" Spark said quietly, looking in a different direction. "Beryl, he does not-"

Beryl knew he didn't have time to look. He could feel just how much danger he was in, in this moment. How much danger they were all in. "Scatter!" he roared, and powered forward, flinging himself and Valka away from the other two Furies as fast as he could.

A deep, familiar roar blasted out from behind Beryl. He spun to the side, barely avoiding a powerful bolt of blue fire.

"Ember's enslaved too!" Valka screamed, clutching to Beryl to avoid being thrown. She must have looked back and saw his slit pupils, or maybe just guessed from the fact that he was trying to kill them.

Beryl knew he didn't have time to look back, even now. He needed to get Ember off of his tail. So, he abruptly folded his wings and dropped, before flaring them and slowing dramatically, far faster than Ember could turn.

The real Ember would not have been shaken by that move; he would probably have anticipated it and tackled Beryl as he slowed, or even blasted him if it was a real fight. But this was not the real Ember, and as a result Ember's controlled body rocketed above and past Beryl, slowing far less quickly, a perfect target-

If Beryl was going to try and kill him. He couldn't do that; not to his Sire and best friend, even if it would only kill one of Ember's bodies. Instead, he took advantage of Ember's preoccupation with slowing down to drop to the ground, landing in a small alleyway, and crouching. Black scales in a dark place. Valka was wearing mostly black too. Ember wouldn't be able to discern them from any great distance, and he had not been looking this way when Beryl dropped down between buildings.

A few seconds passed. Sure enough, Ember did not blast the alleyway, or drop on top of them, clawing and biting.

A distant blast reminded Beryl that the one controlling Ember had other targets. Spark and Herb!

But this was an all-out air battle. "Get off, Valka." He couldn't go into a fight like this with a passenger who wasn't strapped in.

"No," Valka retorted, holding on tightly. "I can't do anything down here."

"You can't do anything up there except fall and die," Beryl retorted hotly.

"And neither can you," Herb remarked, dropping into the alleyway. "Spark is coming. The Bewilderbeast has other targets for Ember right now, apparently. He just stopped chasing and flew to a fight nearby."

"We cannot fight Sire," Spark panted, dropping in on Beryl's other side, filling the small alleyway to capacity. "Not without hurting him."

"We're in a lot of trouble," Beryl summarized sourly. "How do we fix this?" The safe, careful plan that had not involved any more risk than necessary, the plan they had created so long ago, was totally trashed now. Four of them were enthralled, five if one counted the Stormcutter, and the Bewilderbeast showed no signs of doing them all a favor and dying on its own.

"The same way we're keeping the Stormcutter safe," Valka burst out. "Get them into cages."

That wasn't a bad idea. Beryl nodded eagerly. "We can knock Ember out and cage him. That will get him out of the fight." Doing the same for Pearl, Storm, and Thorn would be really, really difficult, but that was a way to safely take down the enthralled Furies. Then they could end the Bewilderbeast, and free their family. Assuming nobody moved the cages…

That was a small risk, and they had no more time to plan. "Spark, Herb, Valka. I want you to trail behind me. I'll lure Ember into a small space, and you hit him from above." It was a sketchy, vague plan, but he couldn't come up with anything better.

"Got it." Herb looked over at Valka. "Come on."

Valka nodded and hopped across to Herb's back. "Beryl, be careful."

"I've played tag with him plenty of times," Beryl quipped. "This time will just be a little more intense."

O-O-O-O-O

Up in the air, the plan they had hastily constructed in a dark alley felt a little less adequately thought through, but it was all they had. Beryl scanned the chaotic warzone quickly, looking for an orange blur of death and blue fire.

From here, he had a good overview of the island. About half of the buildings were trashed, and a good number of Drago's warships had totally or partially sunk. The shores looked like they had been razed by Monstrous Nightmares, sand scorched and melted, bodies everywhere. There was fighting in the streets, demolished and untouched alike, between Viggo's hunters and Drago's soldiers. It was entirely impossible to tell who was winning-

But Drago had help, now. An explosion disrupted a squadron of hunters moving in to join a nearby battle, and Ember pounced from the shadows, tearing into the disoriented ranks of soldiers even as Beryl watched. Ash began to drift in the steady breeze as Ember dismantled the entire group of hunters.

No, not Ember. Beryl forced himself to keep that in mind. This was not Ember, it was the Bewilderbeast, doing what Ember had always opposed doing, shredding through an enemy army.

On the bright side, the Bewilderbeast either didn't know how to use any of Ember's less natural abilities, or was afraid to. A good call; there was no way to know how all of that would interact with what the Bewilderbeast did.

Beryl shook his head, clearing his mind. He wasn't qualified to speculate on what happened when Vithvarandi's curse interacted with mind control, and it would only distract him. His current task was too important for him to be distracted.

Step one: get Ember's attention. Beryl was close now, flying in over the carnage. The places Ember had struck were an odd contrast of smoldering bodies and piles of ash. If one did not know better, one would think the ash results of even more powerful fire.

There was Ember, striking down a cowering hunter, tearing him limb from limb. Beryl winced, both at the violent dismemberment, and at the number of bleeding cuts Ember sported. Nothing major, but not something to dismiss either.

Hopefully, Beryl could get Ember out of the fight before he got any more hurt. The orange Night Fury might not be Ember's only body, but nobody wanted to see him lose it, as it was clearly Ember's favorite of the two when interacting with other dragons.

"Time for round two," Beryl called down, blasting near Ember, intentionally missing. If he had wanted his Sire dead, that might have been his best chance; an unexpected shot to the back of the head.

With a wordless snarl, Ember leaped into the air to chase after him. Again, Beryl was thankful this was not some evil version of Ember, instead of the Bewilderbeast operating a stolen body and maybe picking through memories. The real Ember would never fall for such obvious bait. But the Bewilderbeast either didn't expect a trick, or didn't care if there was one.

Step two: bring Ember to a small, enclosed space. There were a few dotted around the island; Beryl just had to find a convenient one…

With an enraged Night Fury on his tail. Beryl flew low, dipping down to almost skim the road in some places, keeping low to prevent Ember from diving on him. At this height and speed, a tackling dive would probably kill the both of them, and the Bewilderbeast was clearly making good use of Ember's powerful physique and fire to wreak havoc, so he'd want to avoid that.

That didn't mean he'd just follow along, though. Beryl had to pull up to avoid a fiery explosion on the road in front of him, and the moment he was in the air, Ember rushed him, bulling into him and clawing wildly-

Beryl shoved off of Ember and managed to quickly spin out of his grasp, avoiding more than a few shallow cuts. He really didn't want to get any scars from this, both because they'd hurt, and because he knew his Sire would not need permanent reminders of this time. Scars would probably hurt Ember more than Beryl in the long run.

But there needed to be a long run for that to happen. Beryl quickly scanned the area, noting that they were near a large contingent of hunters defending a somewhat tall watch tower near the center of the island. A few streets over, there was a small clearing ringed with taller than average buildings, and a few empty cages-

Perfect! Beryl angled for that spot, happy to pass up on any more aerial combat with his own Sire. Herb, Valka, and Spark were following from a distance, so all he needed to do was drop into the enclosed space, bait Ember down, and then hold him off until the others could get there and knock him out.

Hopefully it really would go that well.

O-O-O-O-O

"Three Furies held in reserve, and one utterly decimating every fight it finds- in Drago's favor," a panting and bloodied scout reported, utterly spent but determined to get through his information before he collapsed. Nothing like a close battle to elicit the most dedication from one's troops. "All dragons that fight for Drago have feral eyes, and some reports say they don't fight as well as they could."

"I know that much," Viggo snapped. "The one killing our men; what color is it?"

"Under the blood, orange," the scout gasped. "Same one some say killed Ryker. Some of its kills dissolve into ash. There's somethin' unnatural abou' it." He was about to faint, by the looks of it.

"Dismissed, rest and prepare to fight," Viggo commanded. He turned away from the scout and considered what he knew.

Ember had implied that the Bewilderbeast messed with the minds of dragons, and that agreed with the little Viggo had gleaned from the old texts on the species. The dragons with feral eyes, what his men called the distinct look involving slit pupils and a lack of emotion aside from rage, were under its control. That apparently included Ember, now.

Which was inconvenient in the extreme, because Ember was proving quite lethal, even under another's control. Viggo had hoped to capture and investigate him, but now he'd have to settle for eliminating him using any possible method. Ember, under the Bewilderbeast, and by extension presumably under Drago, was the single largest threat Drago's forces still had. There were also reports of a blue Night Fury fighting by Drago's side, but those were unsubstantiated.

Viggo moved out from under the shadow of the watch tower, and cast his eyes over his forces. He had called in all of his reserve troops, leaving only a thin layer of front-line fighters to hold Drago off. Having his men concentrated here might have been stupid, but if Ember came calling, the ballista, archers, and spearmen would take him down, assuming he avoided the net launchers and catapults. This plaza was armed to the teeth and specifically geared to prevent aerial assault. That made it a safe staging ground for the time being.

If only he had more troops to work with! Viggo reluctantly called over one of his senior commanders. "Western front."

"Twenty men?" the man asked respectfully.

"Fifteen," Viggo corrected. "Your orders are to slowly retreat inward. Don't let them past you; I need to have some warning before they actually get here." That front was actually doomed, but by telling his men to make it a controlled retreat, he bought himself a little more time, at the expense of more than a tenth of his remaining forces. This was a disaster. Ember had to go before he totally destroyed the rest of Viggo's army.

And speaking of the demon; Viggo instinctively ducked at the rising screech, looking up to see an orange blur dropping onto that same Western front he had just ordered his man to reinforce. Those men were all definitely dead.

Plan. He needed a plan. If not to save this island, then at least to do as much damage to Drago's forces as possible before getting himself away. This was not the entirety of his empire; it couldn't be, given the nature of dealing in dragons, which were far-roaming creatures. But it was his main base of operations, and losing it would set him back years.

Better to be set back years than dead. Viggo grimaced, looking over his model of the island, which had been brought down from the tower to rest on a table out in the plaza. He wasn't going up into the tower himself; one suicidally dangerous strike at it by Ember would kill him were he stupid enough to be in it at the time.

New goals. No longer focusing on winning, how did he use his men to do as much damage as possible, and how many did he need to get himself away at the end of-

"Sir, look!" someone shouted.

Viggo looked up immediately. If one of his men was risking his anger to alert him of something, it was best to assume whatever they wanted him to see was important.

The man, a soldier with a spear, was pointing into the air over the Western front, jabbing his spear at the sky. "Another Night Fury."

"One of the three reserves?" If those were joining the battle, things were about to get even worse.

"No, this one was black," the man answered quickly. "It dropped down into the Western front, same place as the orange one."

So… either reinforcements or-

Like a bat out of Helheim- and where had he pulled that expression from; Helheim didn't have bats as far as he knew- the black Fury pulled up into view, somewhat away from the Western front, and the orange bulled into it, tangling the two together for a moment. It was clearly a chase.

Then his men spotted something else. Viggo needed no alert this time; he was already looking, and he could see two more Furies trailing along, clearly shadowing the two fighters.

Viggo knew tactics, and he definitely knew a trap when he saw it. One as bait, two to spring the trap itself. The black one was headed almost directly towards the plaza Viggo stood in, angling a little to the left.

No need to look at his model of the island; there was only one good place to trap a dragon in that direction. Viggo pulled his eyes away from the aerial chase to address some of his other commanders. "What's the situation to the South of us?"

They knew he meant Drago's ground forces. One answered immediately. "One of our best fronts; we're holding for now. Latest scout reports say Drago might be there, but if he is, he hasn't entered the battle yet."

"Are they fighting in the training yard?" That was the perfect place to corner a dragon. High buildings to all sides and an open space in the middle meant one dragon in the air would be able to keep anything from fleeing to the sky, let alone two.

"Not as far as we know, but they might push our front back there," was the reply.

Improvisation was not fun. There was no finesse here. But at least the path was clear, if not all possible outcomes. "We move, now. To that training yard. The orange Fury will be there, fighting the others and unable to leave by air. We watch, and if the opportunity presents itself, take it down."

"And the others?" the soldier asked, clearly about to start barking orders and get everyone moving.

"Follow my lead; if I point my sword at them, them too, but if I don't, do not attack first." Strange things were afoot, and he had a small inkling of what might be going on, hints from something Ember had said earlier leading his mind to a possible explanation. Best to be ready for anything.

O-O-O-O-O

Holding on to most dragons was not hard. Gronckles and Hotburples were lumpy and misshapen, Nightmares had horns, Nadders their spines, and so on. Most kinds of dragon made it easy, and Valka had two decades of practice dealing with the ones that weren't easy. She might have claimed any dragon could carry her bareback with no issues on her part.

Then she had met Night Furies for the first time, her son and his family, and learned that there was one exception.

Her arms burned, and her hands were almost numb. All of her was slick with sweat, despite the fact that it was still cold and cloudy out besides. If her staff had not been secured to her back, she surely would have lost it by now.

And all of that was after less than five minutes on Beryl and now Herb. When Night Furies went all out, it was all she could do to not literally be sent flying on her own. No horns, no lumps, nothing whatsoever to hold on to, aside from the ears she was pretty sure would not make good grips, and the neck, which she was currently wrapping her arms around so tightly it was a wonder Herb was not falling from the sky from a lack of air. Night Furies were built for speed, not passengers.

But she was holding on. No matter how sore she might be tomorrow, she was holding on. That was good, because there was no way she was letting herself be left behind. There was nothing she could do for her friend, the Stormcutter, but there might be something she could do for Ember or one of the others. What, she didn't know, but something. And that Bewilderbeast had to go to free any of the people she cared about anyway.

So, while her heart ached at leaving the Stormcutter behind again, she had done it without hesitation. He would have understood, were he aware of what was going on.

Were those under control aware of their actions? Valka didn't know. Her alpha had never actually taken control of anyone; that wasn't how he ran the nest.

Right now, it didn't matter whether those controlled would remember their actions, but later, if they all survived… Ember would have issues coming to terms with what he was doing. But all of that was for later. They needed to get Ember out of the battle first, and then to somehow do the same for the other Furies, all so that they could end the Bewilderbeast themselves.

Hadn't this whole plan centered around the idea that they couldn't kill the Bewilderbeast themselves? Yes, but that was then. Everything had gone strange since they made that assumption, and it might be possible now, if the fact that the Bewilderbeast itself didn't know what was happening was any indication.

"Prepare for a fight; Ember has taken the bait," Herb called back, flying low alongside Spark, trailing the two combatants, who were now nowhere in sight.

Valka shook herself, though that was a very limited movement given she didn't dare knock her deathgrip loose, and tried to focus. She would, again, be of almost no use in this fight, but there was a chance she might be able to sneak in and whack Ember in the back of the head with her staff and knock him out, so she couldn't afford to be anything but focused.

Herb dropped into an open area Valka recognized as a training yard of some sort, landing with a light thump on the stones that made up the small plaza. There were a few unoccupied cages scattered around, and some wooden training weapons lying on the ground in various places, obviously abandoned at some point for real weapons as the invasion neared. Two narrow streets crossed the area, meaning there were four ways our from the ground.

And, of course, one other way out, the sky. Spark circled above, looking down nervously, but also checking his surroundings every few seconds. As long as Spark flew above, the Bewilderbeast could not take Ember out of the trap by air. Spark was on guard from attacks from other dragons, and hopefully there would not be time in any case.

Time. They had to do this fast. Valka slid off of Herb, pulling her staff out of her back holster and into her hands, tightening her grip on the familiar haft.

Ember stood in the middle of the training yard, staring at Beryl, who faced him, clearly ready to dodge or strike as needed.

"I need this body. It is powerful, even if it is restraining me," Ember said, though Valka knew it was really the Bewilderbeast talking. It made her stomach churn to hear those impersonal words from the dragon she had not yet really taken the effort to know, but wanted to. He was gone for the moment, never to return if this monster had its way. "My alpha needs it."

"Well, we need our friend and family members back," Beryl gritted angrily, lashing his tail. "Release them all, now."

"I can't release this one," Ember snarled, walking forward, getting closer to Beryl, clearly about to strike. "So I have to use it."

Ember pounced. Beryl leaped to meet him, jumping just slightly more forward than Ember had, ramming his wing-shoulder into Ember's midsection and knocking him to the side. Herb surged forward, leaping into action.

What followed was too fast for Valka to make out. She couldn't even track the lashing claws, snapping teeth, and whatever else the Furies were using as they fought. It was all she could do to edge closer and get an idea of how the general fight was going.

A stalemate. Ember could not, facing two opponents, get in any actually damaging strikes, but Beryl and Herb could not knock him out, and would not go for true injuries or possibly killing strikes. Valka couldn't even get close enough to Ember to strike at him herself, because the Furies did not stay still throughout their fight, tumbling and leaping, roaring powerfully.

This wasn't working. Valka quickly cast around for some other solution-

Her eyes landed on one of the cages. There were several around, one somewhat close to the fight. That could work.

Valka ran to the cage, and quickly opened the door, noting with a resigned grimace that while there was a lock, the key was nowhere to be seen. Getting all of her friends and family out of these cages might prove to be a whole other issue later, but right now Ember needed to be safely out of the way.

"Over here!" she called out, not even bothering with her staff. There was no way Herb could spare the concentration to make out her quiet, imperfect dragon speech right now. Beryl would be the one to hear her-

She barely stopped herself from yelling the plan, too, remembering at the last second that Ember could understand human speech, and that it was possible the Bewilderbeast could too. She couldn't give away the plan.

Beryl looked over at her in a free moment, and his eyes widened in understanding. He leaped over the tangled mass that was Ember and Herb to get on their other side, and rushed the two dragons, knocking both towards the cage before they broke apart and Ember returned to facing both Furies.

Then Herb got the idea, seeing Valka by the cage and clearly remembering that they had discussed caging the other enthralled Furies. He blasted in front of Ember, forcing him to jump back, though he returned fire far more accurately and almost got Herb, who dropped to let the bolt of blue fire pass over him just in time.

Ember had his back to Valka and the cage, and he was less than ten paces away. Valka hunched over behind the open door, knowing that if Ember turned and saw her the closely-spaced bars would be her only protection, however imperfect.

Beryl leaped forward, vaulting over Herb just after the blast passed by, and clawed at Ember's face, forcing him to rear back or be blinded. The black Fury was taking risks, knowing that the Bewilderbeast wouldn't want Ember badly injured, and trusting Ember's body to be able to move out of the way fast enough.

Seven paces.

Herb fired from behind Beryl, a small blast hitting Ember's chest and driving him back, though he flared his wings to stop from being flung very far.

Four paces.

Beryl and Herb charged together, clearly intending to shove Ember the remaining distance-

A deep, somewhat distant howl erupted from somewhere nearby, just before Herb and Beryl reached Ember with their charge. Ember's ears shot up, an incongruous action in the midst of this violence, and he jumped to the side, totally avoiding Beryl and Herb instead of continuing the fight.

No! Valka stepped out from behind the cage door, intent on interfering, on baiting Ember into it herself, if she had to. They were so close!

Ember's head turned, and he looked down one of the streets, in the direction of the howl. He snarled at Beryl and Herb, and sprinted away, headed towards that street. Beryl and Herb chased after-

"Stop!" a man yelled, emerging from the shadows, flanked by hunters. He had a neatly-trimmed goatee and a stern, intelligent expression only slightly marred by several small cuts across his face. "Drago's forces are that way, and my men will strike at your dragons if you chase him."

Beryl and Herb skidded to a stop, letting Ember go, but not for the reason the hunter thought. Beryl leaped back to Valka, and Herb followed, both facing the new threat. Spark circled above, lining up a shot.

"If you want to get Ember back, you need more strategy than that," the hunter continued, projecting his voice to reach them from across the yard. "And as it so happens, I want that particular Night Fury out of this fight, which I am led to believe is also your goal."

Valka nodded tersely, aware that she would be the one speaking for the four of them. "Yes, we do, but we don't want him dead, so if you-"

"Neither do I, if it can be avoided," the hunter agreed hastily, holding up his empty hands as if to reassure her. "I just want him out of the fight in any way that can be arranged." He waved to his men, and they all lowered their weapons. "I think we could both use some allies in that endeavor, if how utterly we are failing separately is any indication."

The way he spoke… Valka had a sneaking suspicion she knew who this was, though she had never met the man herself. "And who are you, to offer an alliance?"

"Who are you, to speak for three Night Furies?" he asked wryly. "I am going to guess the Collector, given your appearance and companions."

"And I'm going to guess you are Viggo Grimborne, given your… everything," Valka replied dangerously.

"Correct." Viggo shrugged his shoulders. "Again, neither of us can afford to be very picky right now."

"We almost had Ember; we don't need this guy's help," Beryl snarled.

"Tell me what you have to offer," Valka said coldly.

"Intelligence, a small force of hunters, and a plan," he replied, sounding entirely sure of himself. "Let me explain the plan, at least."

Valka looked to Beryl, who shrugged uncertainly. Herb and Spark didn't really know what was going on; they'd follow Beryl's lead.

She really hated the idea of working with Viggo Grimborne. Especially when he had to know she played a part in his brother's death. But at this point…

Viggo wasn't the only one who needed all the help he could get. If he actually had a decent plan, they'd take it, and watch their backs all the while. "Talk fast."

**_Author's Note:_ ** **To the reviewer (you know who you are) who predicted Viggo would take Ember and company captive and use them to fight Drago's forces, you weren't quite right, but you had a lot of the big ideas. Viggo is planning to use many of our protagonists to fight Drago's forces. Those forces just so happen to also involve the rest of our protagonists, and while captives were taken, you got the villain wrong. Quite impressive nonetheless.**


	27. Anticipation

**_Author's Note:_ ** **I feel like I should apologize in advance. What for? You'll see.**

"Talk fast," the woman in black armor wielding a strange staff conceded, staring at Viggo as if she could see through him. Three Night Furies of varying color glared along with her, but did nothing more.

For three Night Furies fighting under his command, Viggo would talk as fast as she wanted. Luckily, he had been given a small amount of a very precious resource while lurking in the shadows and watching the fight that had just ended. Time.

No more improvising. This was an actual plan worthy of his reputation, one that stabbed his new allies in the back so subtly they'd never see it, and so painlessly they wouldn't notice until he was done using them to end his other, more immediate enemies.

"First, let me be sure. You want Ember alive, and the Bewilderbeast dead," he clarified, knowing he was right. This was Ember's 'family', the one he had referenced earlier. Viggo recognized many of the Furies here today as ones he had sold, several at around the same time Ember had first appeared on this island. There was a connection, and the nonlethal intentions of these dragons implied it was a positive one. He could and would use that. Sentimentality made people easier to mislead.

What reason the Collector, of all people, had to be sentimental about Ember was a little less clear. Furies were rare; it made sense that the man who could be one would find reason to bond with others as he found them. There had to be a more specific connection between Ember and the Collector, though.

Which did make the Collector a very interesting person, if the Night Furies who followed her lead were not enough to do that. Viggo looked forward to gleaning some information from her specifically in the next few hours, if the opportunity presented itself.

"We want Ember alive and uncontrolled," she spat, "and free. Not caged and sold. The same goes for all dragons, but Ember and the other Furies most of all, along with the Stormcutter your men took down recently and caged."

"A high price," Viggo mused, not at all bothered by her request. He was more interested in the apparent attachment to a Stormcutter, which while also a very rare dragon, was not a Fury or even close in appearance. There was a common thread somewhere, but he could not see it, and this other dragon only muddied the waters.

"Can I also guess you would not be opposed to Drago's head on a pike?" Viggo offered, knowing that the Bewilderbeast was somehow Drago's.

"And yours, someday," the Collector added venomously. "But today, we will settle for what I have said. All of those I mentioned free."

"Then we have no issues," Viggo announced, smiling convincingly and ignoring the scattered murmurs from behind him. He knew for fact that his men weren't actually all that surprised; they knew his reputation for deception and backstabbing. They murmured because it enhanced the illusion. He had well-trained men.

"So tell us your plan," the Collector demanded, not looking all that convinced. She was not gullible, at least. That would actually work in his favor. Stupid people might just be suspicious of everything; smart people trusted their judgment, and once fooled would not doubt so easily.

"Simple." Viggo gestured to the Furies. "Can you give them complex orders, or do you need to be with them for them to do what is needed?"

"The black one can understand you and would like you to know he resents your arrogance," she replied dryly.

"So he is also unnatural, like Ember?" Viggo asked, not thinking that was it. There had to be some difference between the black Fury and the other two, for only it to understand Norse, but if it was actually a human, he would expect it to join in the negotiations, not stare suspiciously and occasionally growl.

At that, how did the Collector hear the dragon communicate? Viggo was operating on the assumption that the Fury really could do what she claimed it could; too many things had gone strange recently for him to doubt it. Ember was proof Viggo didn't know what was possible, which was both exhilarating and frustrating.

More to learn once this was all over with. He was, of course, aiming for an end in which most of the Furies and Valka to boot were captive, so there would be plenty of time to tease out all of these secrets then.

Most. Not all. Ember could break out of Viggo's strongest cages, and was far too dangerous to play with. Viggo hated disposing of such an interesting creature, but he did have to make some sacrifices to safety and practicality. Killing Ember was far more doable than holding him in a way that was sure to be secure, given he had no idea what else Ember could do.

All of this passed through Viggo's adept mind in a moment's time, and he did not miss the Collector's next words. Or more accurately, he did not miss the quiet series of warbles and rumbles the black dragon let loose.

"No, he just took the time to learn Norse," the Collector relayed. "Now get to your plan."

"All in good time," Viggo shot back. "I must know all of the variables first. What are the odds the Bewilderbeast will take these dragons?" He didn't know how that worked either.

"None, apparently. Something has happened to it; it doesn't seem able to take any new dragons," she responded angrily, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Get on with it! You are wasting our time."

"That was my last question for the moment," he reassured her. "On their side, Drago, three Furies held in reserve, one or possibly two on the ground, and ground troops, along with a somewhat injured and apparently handicapped Bewilderbeast. On ours, a small force of my men, you four, and myself. We must strike important targets first." He wished he had some dirt, or anything to write with, but the ground was cobbled stone, and he had not thought to bring parchment and ink to battle. "The Bewilderbeast and Ember are the two big ones."

There was a lot of reasoning behind that statement, which Viggo would be happy to explain if the Collector asked. The Bewilderbeast was the key to all of Drago's non-human forces; taking it down was obvious. Ember was a tougher sell, but he could convince them-

"Of course," she said, totally buying it. Apparently there was no need for further convincing on that point. That would save some time.

"And the Bewilderbeast is guarded by three Furies," Viggo continued, getting to the heart of the plan they were going to know about. "Send your three to engage those and keep them busy. You, I, and the forces behind me will seek out and incapacitate Ember. Then we will move past Drago's forces and head to the Bewilderbeast. If your Furies cannot stop its Furies, we will incapacitate them there, and once all Furies are out of the way, we'll finish off the Bewilderbeast. In return for my aid in all of that, and my word that you will be given your caged Furies and Stormcutter once Drago is gone, your Furies will then help my men disperse Drago's human army."

Viggo had to hide a sly smile at the Collector's blatantly unimpressed expression. He knew what she was going to say; people were predictable.

"You, me, and some hunters are going to safely knock Ember out in the middle of a warzone?" she asked incredulously. "You'll stand no chance."

Viggo turned to the nearest Hunter. "You." He pointed to two others. "And you two. Listen carefully. In my personal quarters, under a removable floorboard, is a Maces and Talons board. Move the traitor three places forward and push down. In the hidden cabinet that reveals, there is a jar labeled 'tranquilizer' and a jar labeled 'poison'. Take the tranquilizer. This same setup is also present in the tavern nearest the docks, if my quarters are inaccessible, but go to my quarters first. Understood?"

"Personal quarters, removable floorboard, traitor three places forward and push, take the tranquilizer," the one in front repeated quickly. "Tavern if not your place. Yes, sir! Do we bring it back here?"

"Here, yes," Viggo agreed, glad he didn't have to repeat all of that. "The tranquilizer, not the poison." He made sure to glare at them there, to be sure they knew he was serious. "I will test it on you when you return." That should ensure they knew which to get. He was serious about the test, too.

"How strong is this tranquilizer?" the Collector asked somewhat less skeptically than before.

"Ten times stronger than dragon root, and a thousand times rarer. It works on anything, too, not just dragons." He had paid a small fortune for it, several years ago. And the poison, though that was more a novelty than anything, thanks to its unique way of killing. The hiding places were to ensure nobody tried to take them.

He had also switched the labels on the jars.

His men didn't know it, but they were bringing the poison, labeled as tranquilizer. Ember was too dangerous to let live.

But they wouldn't be back for a few minutes. His personal quarters weren't far from here, all in all, but they had to go both ways and make it back without breaking the jar. That would take a small amount of time, even if they ran.

"So… we find Ember, and knock him out with the tranquilizer," the Collector asked. "If the enslaved Furies haven't been dealt with, Beryl, Herb, and Spark bring them down to us, and we do the same to them. How do you plan on dealing with the Bewilderbeast?"

"It collapsed in the water just off the shore," Viggo recalled. "It's injured, and apparently can't even be bothered to move out to sea, where it would be safe. Once we get there, your dragons carry some of my men up to its back, and we dump the rest of the tranquilizer down the open wound the acid made. Then, well, we'll figure it out." He'd have three Furies, manpower, and the anti-ship blasters made of metal and Zippleback gas that were still on the shore, along with time. That would be enough to think of something.

"That could work… and what proof do we have that you'll not turn on us?" she asked. Every question answered lowered her guard a little more. Viggo was happy to answer as many as she wanted.

"I need you to ensure Drago's ground forces don't overrun me and my men," he explained. "I need the four of you free to get that. You can take the cages with your knocked-out dragons and put them somewhere safely out of the way before the final push. Once you've honored your end of the deal, all you have to do is fly away and wait for your other dragons to wake. I will, of course, give you the keys to any cages they may be in, and you can test the keys beforehand." He could do all of that. It wouldn't matter in the end, and it seemed like a foolproof plan… assuming one vital thing the Collector would not think to question, because he was going to 'prove' it right in front of her.

This plan had fallen into place with little work. Viggo knew, as any great strategist did, that the most dangerous assumptions were the ones so deeply buried one did not even consider them assumptions, but fact. In this case, the vital assumption was a simple one.

The Collector, ruthless though she was reputed to be, would expect his own men to know what was really in the jars. She would see them voluntarily be 'sedated' with no worries, and she'd believe they really were just sedated, both because of how the poison worked, and because she would see they truly believed it was safe.

To fool her, he had fooled his own men, and would execute three right in front of the rest. Nobody would know until all of this was long over. It would erode a lot of the trust he had cultivated in his men, to find out he had executed three in the name of deception, but not that much, and the fear it would instill would more than make up for the decreased loyalty.

Besides, most would probably consider four or possibly seven Night Furies captive a fair trade. It would be easy to truly sedate the others with dragon-root arrows once they had done the job of destroying Drago's remaining troops; the cages were too heavy and bulky for three Night Furies to carry any long distance, such as off-island, and the poison's effects took days to kill. They would be forced to wait for their friends to 'recover', plenty of time to catch them out and take them for himself. Losing Ember and possibly the three Furies guarding the Bewilderbeast was probably the least perfect part of the plan, but it was an acceptable loss.

The Collector, after hearing his proposed plan to keep things betrayal-proof, had turned to the Furies and begun to speak to them, all four huddled in a small group, apparently talking amongst themselves.

Viggo didn't need to know what they were saying. They knew his reputation; anyone within three months sailing distance did, but they would assume he was focused on ending Drago, the immediate threat, to the point where he would just let them go in order to first use them.

That was everyone's problem, in the end, and the reason nobody ever beat him in a game of Maces and Talons. They all assumed he could only do one thing at a time, like most Vikings. He had played variations of this same plot over and over again throughout the years, and it always worked, both in Maces and Talons and in real life.

Work with someone against a common foe, and somehow stab them in the back before the fight was over. They never saw it coming because backstabbing was supposed to come after the common enemy was gone, not while everything was still in flux. It was a simple trick, and definitely not the only one he had ever used, but it was a good one. The details changed with every new use, meaning only a true genius could use it in such a wide variety of cases, but he liked that, too. A foolproof plan that fit any situation was no challenge at all.

O-O-O-O-O

How far could she trust Viggo? Valka truly didn't know the answer to that question, even now, and it didn't help that Viggo seemed to know she didn't trust him.

But she could see no flaws in the plan, no places Viggo's cunning mind could slip through. He did actually need them; what she had seen of how the battle was going supported that. His plan for the cages and keys was also foolproof. As for the rest… well, he was demonstrating on his own men. His ability to scheme seemed to be focused on reassuring her that he actually meant to uphold his end of the deal, as strange as that was.

And he needed Drago and his Bewilderbeast down more than he needed a few Night Furies. Given the choice between one or the other, it was obvious which any sane man would pick. She could rely on him to work against a common enemy. He'd not risk turning on them until Drago was done with, because he needed them until then.

He might feel differently if he knew this was all the result of their scheming gone awry, but he didn't, and if he knew she was present for Ryker's death, he didn't care.

"So let me get this straight," Herb said quickly, looking over his own shoulder every few seconds. "We get to handle Thorn and the other two on our own, and you, Valka, go with Viggo to safely take Ember down? And these are our enemies we are working with."

"Yes, and we'll know it's safe because Viggo will prove it on his own followers," Beryl explained. "I see no holes in this plan, as long as we can find a good place to keep the cages Ember and the others will be in."

"They will help us get everyone back; I say we do it," Spark chimed in hopefully. "Even if I do not like the look of that one," he added, nodding in Viggo's direction.

"As long as we see no flaws in this plan… we could use the help," Herb admitted. "Even like this, Ember is far too dangerous to take down safely the way we were doing it. If there is a better way, we should take it."

Beryl hesitated. "This is a bad idea," he admitted. "But is it less bad than trying all of this on our own? At least this way we won't have Viggo's side attacking us too."

So it was down to her. Valka was pretty sure that if she said they shouldn't do it, Beryl would agree, and the other two looked to Beryl in situations like this. So really, it was all on her.

She had spent years, decades, fighting Viggo's men, along with Drago and in the beginning the Collector. If anyone would know whether or not this was worth a shot, it would be her.

This was for Ember, Pearl, Storm, Thorn, and Cloudjumper. She couldn't make the wrong choice here.

Time was ticking away. Viggo might be a patient man, but Valka didn't want to waste time. She needed to decide now.

It all came down to two questions. Did she trust Viggo to not stab them in the back until after? And if she did not, did she trust herself to counter him effectively enough that it wouldn't matter? She was no slouch in deception and planning herself, and he might underestimate them.

Yes. If not to the first question, than to the second. There were only so many ways to betray someone, and as long as everyone kept their guard up and didn't actually trust Viggo or his men any further than absolutely necessary, it was an acceptable risk.

"Do not trust him," she advised solemnly. "With anything whatsoever, except what can be easily checked or proven. Don't let any hunters get close to you; your part in the plan does not require that at any point. And if possible, take down the females in ways that incapacitate them without needing cages." That part of the plan was the most worrying to her, so if they could lessen or entirely avoid using Viggo's own cages, that would make this much safer.

"So we should do it," Beryl rumbled. "Okay. You should be careful too, you know," he added, bumping Valka with his snout. "We don't want to have to rescue you after all of this is over. At least one of us should be able to get through all of this without ever being a captive."

That was funny, in a dark way. "I'll try," she promised. "Anything any of you want me to say to him?"

"No," Beryl immediately responded. "Let him forget we are as smart as any Viking. He may make a mistake if he does not take that into account."

Valka nodded, understanding that logic. Really, she should not have told Viggo anything about which dragons understood Norse, or anything else on the subject, but she had not been thinking straight at the time. What was done was done.

As a group, Valka and the three Furies turned to face Viggo. "We will work with you on that plan," Valka announced, feeling a cold pit open up in her stomach as she spoke. This was a mistake, for sure. It was just a less terrible mistake than continuing on their own and hoping for lucky breaks.

Viggo didn't really react aside from shrugging his shoulders. "As I had hoped. The Night Furies must wait until you and I are ready to go; our attacks should be as synchronized as possible, to prevent Ember going to the aid of the one controlling him."

So they had to wait for the ones who went to get the tranquilizer. Valka hated the delay, imagining the damage Ember could do in that time, or have done to him by hunters, but she saw the wisdom in it.

O-O-O-O-O

Beryl really didn't like waiting in an open space, not when the entire island was a warzone. He also didn't like working with dragon hunters. But he would do whatever needed to be done to get Embers and the other safely away from the Bewilderbeast's grip. He knew what losing one's free will felt like.

Beryl shuddered. He had managed to put his own experiences with acting against his own will out of his mind, but now, with nothing to do but wait and ponder what was happening, they were all too relevant, and hard to ignore.

His own experiences were, admittedly, not nearly as bad as what Ember would be going through. The Queen's control had fluctuated, and most of the time was no more than an annoying nagging at the back of his head, keeping him from just fleeing the nest. It only got bad enough to actually control when she was hungry, and thus needed to send a raid out. But those raids, those terrible raids…

That was over now. He was free, and the Queen had died by his own fire. But the experience was never going to be one he could look back on neutrally.

How would Ember look back on this? With horror, just like he looked at his own capabilities. This was not going to help Ember's state of mind at all. It wouldn't help any of the four they were going to save, really. Thorn and Storm knew fighting, but Pearl especially would likely be traumatized by this.

Maybe. Or maybe not; for all Beryl knew, Pearl had a bloody past that would make this just another bad day in comparison. She was the only one whose life story he did not know, to some degree. There might be a reason for that, and Thorn's scolding about how Pearl did not deserve to be criticized in areas involving parents was… well, concerning, to say the least.

Beryl actually wasn't sure what Ember knew of Pearl's past, either. He assumed far more than he himself did.

Eventually, he'd find out, especially because he was pretty sure Ember was going to eventually admit he loved Pearl and get on with acting on that. That was fine; Pearl was nice enough, and she definitely returned the affection Ember had yet to accept.

All assuming they both survived and got out from under the Bewilderbeast's control, of course. That was a sobering thought that pulled Beryl back into the present…

Where they were all still standing around, awkwardly waiting for the No-scaled-not-prey to get back with the tranquilizer to be used on Ember and possibly the females if nothing else worked. Great. On the bright side, no new explosions had occurred recently, so wherever Ember was, he was sticking to ground combat for the time being.

Or dead… no, not possible. Ember was far too tough to die here, not when the Bewilderbeast still wanted him alive and doing… whatever he was doing now.

A distant clatter rung out from the direction Beryl had been watching. He listened as it grew closer, three pairs of impacts… three running things on two legs. That was an easy one to guess.

Sure enough, the three No-scaled-not-prey ran into view a few seconds later, the one in the middle of the trio carefully cradling an opaque glass jar. That was handed off to Viggo, who smiled confidently and held the jar up.

"It says 'tranquilizer,' I can read," Valka said sourly, cutting him off before he could speak. "I also don't trust a label, so get on with demonstrating."

"Would you like to read the rest of said label?" Viggo offered, holding the jar out. "It lists the effects, as well as how to use it. Given we'll both be prepared to apply it, so to speak, you should know."

Valka took a few steps forward, snatched the jar warily, and read it, glancing up every few seconds to be sure Viggo wasn't taking advantage of her distraction to do anything. "Interesting… a few days? That's a long time to wait."

"It is strong," Viggo agreed. "Impractical for everyday use."

"And it mimics impending death for the last day," Valka continued, her tone extremely wary. "So well that one would think the afflicted on their deathbed. Then they just wake up feeling fine. This sounds very… convenient."

"I believe it may have been used to fake a few deaths," Viggo agreed conversationally. "But remember, I'm going to demonstrate its effects. If you three are willing?"

"We definitely took the one labeled tranquilizer, not poison," the leader of the three said confidently. "But… you'll make sure nobody kills us while we're out, right?"

"Maybe I'll only do two of you," Viggo proposed. "The third can do the guarding. Who wants that job?"

The other two hunters immediately pointed to the one who had spoken, all while glaring at each other. If Beryl had to guess, it wasn't so much that they trusted the third hunter; they just didn't trust each other to do it.

"Guess I'm the odd one out," the third hunter sighed, and stepped back. "I'll watch 'em."

Valka handed the jar over to Viggo, now watching carefully. "It says it needs to go into the blood to work."

"Any cut will do, basically, and it's concentrated enough that you only need to get in one cut to drop a human," Viggo explained carefully popping the top off of the jar and drawing his sword. "You and I will coat our weapons in it when we go for Ember."

"Why not everyone?" Valka asked, echoing Beryl's own thoughts on the subject.

Viggo slathered some sticky yellow paste onto the blade of his own sword, not even looking up as he answered. "I assumed you would not want my men armed with it, as you don't trust me. The two of us can do it, if my men distract him first."

"You're right; I don't trust you," Valka muttered.

"As I expect; nobody should," Viggo agreed. He held out his sword. "A small cut will do for either of you. See you in a few days."

"Lucky," another hunter muttered too quietly for any of the nearby No-scaled-not-prey to hear, though Beryl caught it. "Skippin' the rest o' the fight."

Well, that was pretty reassuring. There was no way for that hunter to know he would be overheard, and thus no reason to say anything unless that really was just an idle complaint. Which meant these hunters really were going to be fine, which in turn meant Ember would be fine.

Beryl still watched closely as the two hunters pricked themselves on the tainted sword blade. They began to sway after about half a minute, and visibly crumpled soon after, hitting the ground as if boneless. It was a little cruel of Viggo's men to just let them fall, but they were Vikings and hunters to boot; cruel was kind of their thing.

What really mattered, in the end, was that the substance Viggo was proposing they use had been demonstrated to do exactly what it was supposed to. If Viggo was going to betray them, it wouldn't be with that.

Valka offered up her staff, and Viggo took it, though he eyed it curiously. "Does this thing cut anywhere?"

"No, so just put it on the ornate end," Valka instructed. "Ember has a lot of shallow wounds already. I'll just have to hit him a few times to get some in those."

"Do you have a knife or something?" Viggo asked, not sounding at all convinced, though he did as she requested. "This stuff is not that fast-acting, and if you can stab him in some non-vital place, like a paw, that would be far more useful."

"No," Valka admitted. "Just my staff."

"Somebody give me a knife and sheath," Viggo called out. A hunter stepped forward and did so, and he treated it with the tranquilizer, before putting the lid back on the jar and handing it to another hunter. "Your only job is to follow along from a distance and keep this safe. We need the rest for the Bewilderbeast later."

He then handed Valka the sheathed knife and staff. "Now we are ready."

Beryl remembered that meant he and the others were going to need to go now, too. "Valka, good luck. Don't let him trick you."

"You as well," Valka retorted, attaching the sheath to the black armor near her waist. "Keep them safe. All of them."

"We're not losing anyone." Beryl was determined to make that the truth. "You can find Ember without our help?"

A distinct roar echoed across the training yard as if in answer. Ember, wherever he was, would not be hard to find, and it sounded like he was still on the ground.

Viggo's eyes narrowed. "It sounds like he is attacking the Southern front; that's close, and if we lose there, Drago's going to roll right across the island before we have time to do anything more. We need to go!"

"And so do we," Beryl snarled, flaring his wings and nodding to Spark and Herb. Neither was able to follow all of this, so they just relied on him to convey whatever was important. It was a heavy responsibility, but he was the only one for the job.

The three Furies sprung into the air, leaving Valka and Viggo to sedate Ember and get to the shore on foot. They could do it; Ember would be fine.

It was time to concentrate on getting the rest of their family back.

O-O-O-O-O

Valka jogged through the narrow streets, side by side with one of the two men she would most like to see dead, Viggo Grimborne. She was just glad they were moving too fast to comfortably talk; she did not want to make small talk with the devious and despicable leader of the dragon hunters. That might distract her from watching her own back.

Still, he wouldn't betray her yet. That was going to come later.

Then they ran out into another street, and Valka began to doubt there would be a later. This had to be the Southern front, and if there was any place that was a Viking paradise, this would be it.

The narrow street was lined with a front line of large hunters, steadily clashing with an equivalent line of Drago's soldiers. The buildings on either side of the street were either burning or about to be set on fire, and less bulky men from both sides leaped through windows to prevent the other side from getting behind the line. Archers lined the rooftops, firing sparingly enough that they had to be almost out of arrows or crossbow bolts.

And everywhere one looked, there were bodies. This had been a massive battle; now, as numbers dwindled, it was a bitter struggle, neither side willing to give in.

"Half of my group, reinforce the line!" Viggo yelled, stepping to the side to allow his fresh warriors to take up places in the defensive line. "Resupply the archers. We hold this spot!"

"What are you doing?" Valka hissed. "We're supposed to be going for Ember!"

"Look over there," Viggo growled back, pointing to the far right, behind enemy lines. "That's Drago. Ember obeys the Bewilderbeast, who obeys Drago. I'm giving him a target he'll want to strike. We're bringing Ember to us."

Drago. Valka felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as Drago glared at her, somehow meeting her eyes through all of the carnage of the battle.

"Never met him in the flesh," Viggo commented wryly. "Not the best circumstances for a first meeting, either. Then again, what should I expect of a man who always kills the messengers?" He sounded almost amused by that. "I'm assuming he's intelligent enough to grasp basic strategy. If he's not, he won't call Ember in, and we'll destroy his forces. It won't be the first time I've overestimated the enemy."

Valka might have laughed scornfully at the arrogance practically dripping off of Viggo, were the situation not so dire. "And how many times have you underestimated the enemy?"

"It happens occasionally. My brother, for instance. I did not think him capable of swallowing his pride and going to a third party for help. Thank you for having Ember kill him, by the way. Saved me the trouble."

There was no way Valka was going to respond to that; she was half sure Viggo was just fishing for a reaction. "Focus on the current enemy."

"What good is that? He's not doing anything. I hate an opponent that wastes time when there is only one good move to be made."

Drago stepped forward, out into the open behind his own lines, and began to swing a long bullhook about his head, roaring as if to imitate a dragon.

"Looks like he's making his move now," Valka observed, unnerved by the strange action. She had never faced Drago personally either; the one time she had been his captive, it had been Krogan who brought her in, and she had escaped before Drago returned to the mountain. What he was doing now made no sense, the roar only barely registering as a command of some sort-

Two sleek shadows leaped out of the darkness of the alleyways to either side of Drago and flanked him, growling at each other disagreeably as they did.

Viggo almost imperceptibly winced. "Too bad. I had hoped that one was elsewhere. Will you insist this one is also part of our deal?"

Valka didn't hesitate. "Yes." They could work out what in the world was going on with this dragon later. She wouldn't say no and condemn him to death when she didn't know the full story.

"Fine." Viggo sounded resigned to that. "Get ready, then. This is going to be a bit touch and go." He drew his sword, which was colored a sickly yellow, just like the head of her staff and the blade of her knife. "Remember, we need to get them both with these. That will take them down safely. My men have orders to only interfere, not aim for killing strikes. They'll mostly be keeping Drago's forces off of us."

Valka might have asked how they kept Drago's attention on her and Viggo, as opposed to the hunters, but she knew, looking at Drago, that there would be no difficulty there. He pointed his bullhook straight at her and Viggo, and roared once more.

That sound, she knew. Challenge. Or in this case, as it was a command, kill. Both Night Furies broke into a sprint, easily leaping the entire clash at the front line, clearing the actual fight and bypassing most of the conflict, reaching the reinforcements in seconds-

Valka ducked impulsively as a single, surprisingly weak blast exploded in front of her and Viggo. There was screaming, and fire, and blood everywhere, sizzling in the blazing heat or just spilling from broken bodies. She struggled to her feet, unsheathing the knife Viggo had given her, staff in her other hand. Viggo stood beside her, unhurt and glaring at the dragons rushing them. Hunters got to their feet all around them, but they were at best going to be a distraction, nothing more.

Dragon lover and dragon hunter, against two Night Furies. This was not going to be an easy fight. At least she and Viggo had a trick to work with; just a few shallow cuts and Ember or the other Fury would be down for the count.

O-O-O-O-O

Thorn, Storm, and Pearl were not hard to find. They were still circling over the Bewilderbeast, who had yet to move from his sprawled-out position mostly in the shallows, but with a small part of him still on shore.

He didn't matter yet. Beryl put the large but apparently no longer mobile dragon out of his mind. This was between the three of them, and the three smaller pawns of the Bewilderbeast. Those dragons weren't Storm, Pearl, and Thorn, they were enemies using their bodies as weapons and shields. The trick would be in somehow depriving the Bewilderbeast of the bodies while not destroying or even majorly injuring them.

This was almost like fighting Vithvarandi, in one specific way. It was going to hurt to strike at these familiar, friendly figures, but it had to be done.

Beryl looked over at Spark, remembering how badly his brother had taken Vithvarandi's final ploy, and decided on something. "When we get there, each of us has to focus on one of them. Otherwise, they'll gang up on whoever is most vulnerable." Conversely, because the numbers were equal, they also could not do exactly that if they spread out. Somebody would have to get lucky and down their assigned dragon before numbers could begin to work in Beryl's favor.

"I know!" Herb called out. "I am going for Thorn!"

"No, you're going for Storm," Beryl corrected. "You'll pull your hits with Thorn; she's your mate. Spark, you go for Pearl. I'll take care of Thorn."

"I do not like this," Spark whined unhappily. "I do not want to hurt Pearl."

"We don't want to hurt anyone, Spark," Beryl reminded him. "Just keep her off of us until Herb or I can find a way to down our targets and come help you." Spark was no wimp or coward, but fighting was not his specialty, and he took no particular joy in it, meaning he didn't have quite the same level of skill as Herb or Beryl. That was part of why Beryl had assigned him to Pearl; if any of the three females was not a fighter, it was her.

Speaking of Pearl… she was the first to notice them, happening to be in a place on the route all three were following to be looking in their direction. She shuddered, visibly faltering in the air, and as one all three females were moving to intercept, flying fast.

"Looks like it's time; be careful, and don't hurt them, but don't let them hurt you!" Beryl called out, before diving to meet Thorn, who was flying a bit lower than the other two. Spark and Herb oriented themselves to engage the dragons Beryl had assigned them.

Beryl flew straight, dismissing the other two pairs of fighters from his mind for a moment. He needed to focus on the one in front of him. Thorn was still a little undersized, but she had regained much of her body mass, mostly muscle, in the months since rescue… just in time for the one she had been rescued from to take advantage of her efforts. There was something deeply ironic and horrible about that, but Beryl didn't have the time or desire to think about it. He rammed into Thorn head-on, knocking them both down quite a ways, and pinned her wings with his own, forcing them to fall together. He needed to get this done quickly-

Thorn pushed her wings out, straining to break free, and then snapped them in, dropping slightly under Beryl, and flipping to claw at his underside. Beryl was forced to pull up to avoid having his own guts spilled halfway across the island, and Thorn took advantage of that to pull away, flying low, almost hitting a few buildings.

So, that was how the Bewilderbeast wanted to play it? Beryl purred grimly, knowing that of the two of them, he was by far the better flier. Thorn wasn't getting away.

O-O-O-O-O

There was no way this was Pearl. Pearl was nice, funny, and reminded Spark of a somehow older version of himself, though she was actually younger than him. The Pearl he knew would not be doing her best to shred his wings-

Just like the Flint he knew would not have tried to claw his wings. He wasn't going to be distracted by what she looked like; he had made that mistake once before, and paid for it. So while it hurt to strike at the likely future mate of his Sire, he did it anyway. Not striking to kill, never that, but striking to drive her off. She was aggressive, but not that skilled, and while he did not like fighting, Ember had drilled how to do it into his head long ago. He had fought Vithvarandi, in that final battle, and he'd fight the Bewilderbeast in this one. It was necessary.

He just hoped Ember was okay-

Pearl managed a perilously close swipe with her hind paws, almost removing one of his base fins. He needed to get her off-

A plasma blast struck Spark in the back, and he grunted in pain, utterly blindsided, falling out of the sky. Where had that come from? He barely pulled up in time, and immediately headed back into the sky, Pearl hot on his tail. This was not easy at all!

O-O-O-O-O

Was this some twisted nightmare? Herb really wasn't sure, but as he flew straight towards the one he considered his daughter, regardless of who sired her, he couldn't totally discount the idea that this was all some terribly morbid dream born of his own guilt.

Supporting that idea was the fact that Beryl had set him on this path, by telling him to take Storm, not Thorn. He would hate fighting his own mate, but there was something particularly twisted about being forced to come to blows with the daughter he had hurt emotionally, like his subconscious was saying 'you already hurt her once, so you should be able to do it again.'

Herb clashed with Storm in the sky, forcing himself to claw at her, not to hurt or even actually hit her, but to drive her back, to make her stop trying for his good eye.

This was no dream. He would be lucky if this was a dream. This was horrible, horrible reality, and his daughter really was this slit-pupiled monster, her real self locked away somewhere inside. Was she aware, in some corner of her mind, or was she watching as if from behind a sheet of water, able to see but not react? Could she see him fighting her?

"I am so, so sorry," he moaned, driving his paws up into her chin and knocking her to the side, breaking them apart for a moment. "I have to save you."

She didn't respond. Of course, she both could not and would not if she could. Instead, she flipped in a tight circle, fired a blast off to the side for some reason, and drove him down, clawing at his wings and forcing him to descend. He fell, regaining his stability just barely above tree level, almost skimming the strange constructs that littered this island-

And, in a moment of premonition, swerved. He could not see out of his bad eye, but something told him to move.

A bolt of fire blazed through where he would have been had he not dodged, a powerful blast echoing from somewhere in the distance, followed by Thorn. Thorn had shot at him-

And now Storm was on his tail, forcing him to flee for the moment. Beryl chased after Thorn, slowly catching up, and they locked eyes for a fraction of an instant.

Herb was sure he was wearing the same expression as Beryl, a medley of despair, shock, and determination. The last one was the only one that was important. He was not going to fail Storm and Thorn again, no matter what their enslaver came up with!

**_Author's Note:_ ** **Again, sorry, but it had to be done; this chapter was called Anticipation for a reason. One more week before you see how it all falls out. Also, just in case anyone was wondering, this story is actually going to be 33 chapters all told, counting prologue and epilogue. Yes, it expanded a bit, as the original chapter count was an even 30. I'll explain that when we get to the end.**


	28. Endings

What was the point?

Second bit and clawed at his latest target, rending the bulky No-scaled-not-prey underneath him, quickly ending its life.

Not fast enough; not efficiently enough. He was no longer Second in title; the Bewilderbeast had taken that from him.

But he was no longer Third, either. Ember had involuntarily taken that from him, too.

Drago laughed, a sound that heralded doom for someone, and gestured forward with his bullhook, directing them to clear the rest of the alley. Ember and Second both surged forward, but Ember's strides were just a little stronger, his body just a little more powerful, and he got there first. The remaining enemy died without a sound, utterly overwhelmed.

Second caught a glimpse of Ember's slit-pupil eyes, and shuddered convulsively, feeling the lurking presence at the back of his own mind. The Bewilderbeast had never really left him to himself and could take over whenever it wanted. The feeling of being in control, but not really, was disconcerting.

Was this state of being _allowed_ to act for himself any better than what Ember was suffering? Not really. Second was not in control of himself, not really if his will would be removed from him the moment he did anything the Bewilderbeast did not approve of. It was not control if someone else was granting it.

But hadn't that been his entire life so far? He was never in control of his own life, because at any moment Drago could decide to cast him aside, and one did not survive outliving Drago's attention. Drago's approval was all Second had.

All he had. He no longer saw Drago as alpha, not anymore. The Bewilderbeast still did; he was Drago's new favorite.

Second cast a look over his shoulder and saw Drago smiling, truly smiling, reveling in his control, in the destruction. In Ember, because Ember was something Second was not. He was an unnatural creature that somehow succeeded in making the very act of killing more intimidating that it normally was. Ember's victims fell to ash in an instant. Nobody knew why, or how, but they did, and Drago loved it. It fit his image.

Second knew he had just been replaced by a mindless servant. He did not resent _not_ being Drago's favorite, he resented…

He didn't _know_ what it was about this that he resented so much, he just knew it was Ember. Always Ember. The one who had taken his fins, the one who had spared him, the one who apparently had others who cared for him.

The one who was a killer, a mass-murdering slave, but somehow still had more than Second did. People who would miss him, were probably already missing him.

Drago ordered the two of them out into the street, so they went. Second hated himself for acting like Ember, for he still had a choice-

But _no,_ he didn't really. No choice at all. Why was he even being allowed to think for himself? There was no difference anyway. He and Ember were doing the same things, and Ember was at least not forced to sit through it all and hate himself.

Ember would not remember any of this. Second still could not remember the brief time he had spent totally under control, so neither would Ember.

That was something else Ember had. No choice. Second envied him that, too. Nothing was going through Ember's mind right now, and nothing ever would again, unless the Bewilderbeast randomly decided it was tired of him. That at least was a peace of some sort.

Peace. Second idly blasted a well-hidden archer out of his spot on a nearby rooftop, not caring which side he had been on. Did he want peace?

What would he do with it? Would Drago be there?

No, Second didn't want peace. He wanted to stop thinking. To have what Ember had right now, or what he had just granted that archer. Either would do. It wasn't like he had anything to look forward to, or any will to try and find something new.

Second did not _want_ to break free of Drago, of the Bewilderbeast, to start over. He had no will to do as Third had. That had, by all appearances, not worked out well for Third anyway. It was too late for the both of them; they could not live normal lives. Oblivion was better, lest he break free only to be like Third in some way.

The one thing Second could still claim as his own. He was better than Third. The list of reasons had grown recently, and now no longer included what for so long had been its only entry, loyalty. Not in heart, which was why he still called himself Second, instead of accepting the demotions pushing him down to Third and even further below.

Another alley, but this time Drago went ahead, leaving them behind. Second contemplated shooting Drago's unguarded back, but he knew he'd never get such an obviously treacherous strike off before the Bewilderbeast noticed and took over. If he was going to surrender to oblivion, he wanted to do something to earn it.

After a few minutes of waiting, possibly the longest time they had gone without killing since Ember had joined them, Drago began to spin his bullhook and grandly proclaim somebody's death. Second didn't care; all he knew was that he was going to kill some more. No surprise, and no great loss on this battlefield.

And of course, Ember would be with him. Second despised working with another of his own kind because it reminded him of Third, but he did it anyway because refusing to run out into a street was not how he wanted to earn oblivion. It had to be something more meaningful than that.

Two distinctive No-scaled-not-prey stood in the street, past the line of combat, surrounded by more hunters. Second knew immediately that those were the ones he and Ember were to kill. They were looking at him-

No, they were both looking at Ember. Maybe they were here to end him. Maybe they were not. It did not matter; they would die.

Second almost stopped paying attention as he and Ember made their way over the line and scattered the unimportant targets. He had done this and worse a thousand times over. He would be reviled by any sane dragon for what he had done in season-cycles past. There was no starting over, not even with those who would not know him. He could not start over. All he had left was a fitting end.

Then he was upon the two that were to die, and fell into the pulse of battle. Lunge at the target; get in Ember's way as a subtle taunt. Tailswipe the male No-scaled-not-prey; narrowly avoid a slash.

His attention returned when he noticed the oddly-colored weaponry the important two were wielding. That looked like poison. Death might be a single cut away, but he had not done anything yet.

Then he and Ember switched targets, Second reluctantly responding to a near-inaudible prompt from the Bewilderbeast. That dragon liked to coordinate his separate bodies to do things no group of dragons could do, like wordlessly strategize, but Second did not need the help.

Lash at the female, knock her down with his tail, get in close to-

Several things happened at once. Second inhaled, and a blade jabbed his chest, cutting moderately deep.

Smell. There was familiarity there, below the heady scents of battle and death. He knew Ember's smell, and he knew the connected smells of family, the same damning scent that had first informed him Storm was not to be his long-awaited mate.

Pain. The pain of a poisoned blade entering him and depositing whatever it had in store for him. He was going to die. Ember was too…

But this female did not smell of bloodlust. She smelled of all the other scents of battle, but not that one. In its place was worry and hope.

So maybe poison, but she did not want him dead? No, she did not want Ember dead. She was somehow family.

Ember had something, but he would never get to experience it. Second had something, one moment of free will, but he wanted nothing. He was also possibly about to die anyway, but Ember had yet to be cut with one of these blades.

Was this worthy of being his one act of defiance?

Not like he had a choice. He could already feel the poison spreading, his body beginning to grow the tiniest bit sluggish. Dying or merely incapacitated, he didn't care, but he could only do one thing, and now he had a time limit.

Yes, this was a big enough decision. Second made as if to leap for the male No-scaled-not-prey Ember was threatening-

But at the last moment flared his wings to slow himself and landed on Ember, brutally slamming his head on the stone street from behind. He managed to rear up and fall on Ember's head once more before losing control-

' _Stop! I need him!'_

Second could only laugh to himself as his body nosed at Ember, and he saw that the other Fury was unconscious.

Then the darkness he so craved took him. An end, in one way or another.

O-O-O-O-O

Beryl whipped through the air, forcing his body to move as fast as possible, flying just evasively enough that any long-range shots would miss. That was necessary now; the three enthralled females were somehow passing information between themselves no matter what was going on, and could do exactly what separating to take them down one on one had been designed to prevent.

They could interfere with each other's opponents at will, and knew exactly what was happening.

Thorn, slightly ahead of Beryl, swerved and fired off into the distance. Beryl knew whoever had been the target wouldn't hear any warning he roared, so he instead took the chance to close the gap and throw himself upon Thorn, bringing her down closer to the ground once more. It was looking like they were either going to have to knock the females out of the sky, or wait for Viggo and his tranquilizer, and either would require the females being close to the groud. Hopefully, Spark and Herb would be in positions to do the same.

Thorn's body, for it was not really Thorn in there at the moment, snarled angrily and pulled up before crashing into a partially-collapsed tile roof. Beryl landed on the roof and sprang off again, his wings totally tucked in, leaping onto Thorn as she tried to get back up into the air. He was clearly foiling some sort of larger plan by keeping Thorn here, given how single-mindedly her body was trying to get into position-

And he should expect to be targeted, because the Bewilderbeast wanted Thorn to do something. Beryl hummed slyly, getting the faintest whisp of an idea of how to counter three dragons who knew what was happening to the other two at all times.

But… his idea would only work once. He couldn't give it away yet. So, despite having predicted he'd be shot at by one of the other two females at any moment, he didn't do anything differently just yet, listening carefully even as he continued to keep Thorn low in the sky-

There. Beryl let go of Thorn and dropped, landing in a ruined street. A blast impacted the building across from him, utterly trashing it and starting a small fire in the more flammable building next door. He purposefully stumbled, shaking his head as if to clear it.

Thorn went on the offensive, clearly trying to follow up on her fellow Fury's attack, and pounced on him.

Beryl purred savagely, glad that his kind relied so much on leaping and pouncing in inter-dragon fighting, and crouched, before leaping up and forward the moment Thorn's body landed on him, redirecting her straight into the ruined building like one might skip a rock over still water.

There was a brief moment of silence, and Beryl's heart dropped. If he had accidentally killed her-

Something stirred in the rubble, and Beryl forced himself to keep going. This plan had to work the first time around, because it definitely would not work once the Bewilderbeast caught on. He walked up to the beginning of the rubble and snarled, making himself sound as vicious as he could.

Thorn stirred again, clearly not all that injured but severely disoriented, and tried to claw at him, lunging from the rubble with a very awkward jump, made unstable by her lack of solid footing.

Beryl slowly charged up a blast, hoping he had timed everything right, and listened very, very carefully. They were too close for the other females to shoot at him, but perfectly in line for a diving tackle-

Thorn hopped to the side, trying to look like she was repositioning to strike again. If Beryl didn't know better, he would have believed it, and he made it look like he had bought it, turning with her.

And then turning all the way and firing without looking, blasting the building across from them, the one any diving Fury aiming to tackle him would have to skim to get down low enough.

Storm plowed through the explosion with her eyes closed, clearly shocked and utterly out of control, and plummeted right into the street, bouncing off of the ground like a skipping stone, she had hit with such force. She tumbled to a stop and did not get up, though her chest heaved raggedly.

It was a very good thing she had instinctively pulled her wings in. Night Furies were compact and could take a beating, but only on the torso. Her wings would have snapped like brittle sticks had she hit with them open.

One down. Beryl turned and rushed Thorn before she could recover from the momentary shock of the Bewilderbeast's overall plan being anticipated, crowding her into a small space, the stone foundations of the building still standing in one place to form a corner.

Thorn lashed out, clearly trying to drive him back, but she had gotten too boxed in for Beryl to care. He closed his eyes, took the painful but only mildly serious injuries, and bulled into her one more time, knowing where her head was, and where the stone foundations behind her stood. That was enough to knock her head into a solid wall… several times, each slightly harder than the last. He really didn't want to put too much force into this.

Once Thorn's clawing had stopped, Beryl opened his eyes to judge her condition. She slumped, her eyelids fluttering, and growled as if half-asleep.

"Out, or I'll force you out," he threatened. Maybe the Bewilderbeast would-

A mocking, pained laugh was the only response he got. Beryl slammed Thorn's head against the wall once more, and whatever shred of consciousness the Bewilderbeast had been clinging to fled.

This wasn't going to actually get the Bewilderbeast out of her, of course. It worked like that for the Queen, but apparently not for the Bewilderbeast, according to Valka. But it _would_ get Thorn out of the fight for a good long while. Two down.

But Herb had been facing Storm, so where was he?  
"I am going to have nightmares about that," Herb remarked, revealing himself as being perched on another rooftop diagonally opposite the demolished building, clearly having been ready to interfere. "But good work. I could never have done that to either of them."

Beryl knew that. "I know. Now we need to get Pearl down." He walked out of the rubble, not trusting it to provide a stable place to leap up from, and hesitated when he saw Herb was not moving. "Herb?"

"Go. I will hide them," Herb explained, jumping down into the street. "You said to be careful and to not let the No-scaled-not-prey we are working with trick us; Storm and Thorn will not be up for a long while. We do not need cages to hold them."

"So…" Beryl nodded, getting the point. "I'll try to bait Pearl to somewhere nearby." It would be best if they could hide all three together, if only so that the first to wake could watch over the other two.

Or rejoin the fight, if they woke before the Bewilderbeast was dead. Beryl leaped into the air, forcing himself to consider that possibility. It could happen. But it was not likely…

And he did not trust Viggo. This was an acceptable risk.

Spark and Pearl were easy to find, a gold and white duo of shapes fighting quite close to the Bewilderbeast itself, flying over the shore. They seemed to be at a stalemate now, though Spark would be holding back.

"Need a paw?" Beryl called out, circling around to attack from behind, and forcing Pearl onto the defensive. "The others are down!"

"Do not say that! She will hear!" Spark hissed, almost comically concerned. It seemed he had not deduced what Beryl had, and thus that Pearl would already know.

Beryl began to drive Pearl away from the shore and towards the place Herb and the others were, and Spark fell in, clearly seeing the intention if not the point. "She already knows that," he called, hoping to distract the Bewilderbeast from where they were herding its last active body.

Well, no, not its last. Ember was still out there somewhere. But the fact that he hadn't joined this fight meant Viggo and Valka were at worst keeping him busy, or at best had already taken him down.

Driving Pearl down and to the street Storm and Thorn had been defeated on was almost too easy, though she fought tooth and claw to stop it, obviously angered and afraid.

Afraid. And she, or more accurately the Bewilderbeast, should be! Beryl drove Pearl down to the ground, and leaped off of her-

Only for Spark to pin her. He looked up at Beryl, as if asking him to finish it.

Beryl nodded, knowing his brother was probably too soft-hearted to do it himself, and dropped his full weight onto Pearl's head, slamming her chin into the stone.

It didn't work, though she was visibly dazed. Beryl reared up again to try once more-

Spark looked up at him with a look of horror, and quickly reached a claw out, poking Pearl's pressure point. She collapsed.

Oh. Beryl let himself fall back onto all four paws and eyed Pearl's slumbering body. "I should have thought of that earlier," he admitted sheepishly. It really wouldn't have helped earlier, because the big problem had been getting the first dragon down, but it might have spared Pearl the nasty headache she was sure to have later.

"We were fighting her a second ago; I guess it was not obvious," Spark reassured him, looking immensely relieved. "The other two are out?"

"Less gentle methods were used on them, but yes." Beryl looked around for Herb, and saw him approaching from the collapsed building. Storm and Thorn were nowhere to be seen, which was impressive given Herb had not had much time to work.

"Over here; I am hiding them in the collapsed structure," Herb explained, grabbing the scruff of Pearl's neck and beginning to pull. Beryl and Spark helped, and soon they had dragged Pearl up onto the rubble.

Then, quickly but carefully, Herb began to cover her in small pieces of tile and stone. "Nobody will notice if nobody can see them."

That was a good plan. Between the three of them, Pearl's white scales were soon nowhere to be seen, and probably not so white at the moment anyway; there was a lot of ash and dust in the air.

"It will not be hard to find this place again, and it is out of the way," Beryl concluded, looking around. "Nobody has come down this street for as long as we have been here. They will be safe."

Now all that was left to do on their part was taking down the Bewilderbeast, once and for all. As Beryl and the others flew out to it, they saw No-scaled-not-prey on the shore by its head, setting up metallic contraptions near it. They carefully began to fly down, and see what was going on, wary all the while of possible treachery.

O-O-O-O-O

There was no way they were going to survive. Valka felt that in her bones, striving with all her might to simply not be eviscerated, let alone to strike out on her own part. Viggo was similarly outmatched; neither of them had gotten in a single blow, and the other hunters were absolutely no help. Two humans against two Night Furies was no contest; the only reason they were not yet dead was that both dragons were fighting carefully, avoiding the obviously tainted blades.

Valka knew something had to change. When the blue Fury lunged, she took a chance and stabbed it with her knife, expecting the dragon to cut her quite badly in exchange. If she could just get some of the tranquilizer into him, they might stand a chance, but as it was the dragons were quickly wearing her and Viggo down before the timer, so to speak, had even started.

Instead of hurting her, however, the blue dragon stiffened, its eyes aware but not at the same time.

That, if Valka had time to think, might have both confused and saddened her. This dragon, unlike Ember, truly did fight for Drago of its own will. She did not know the story, but that and its overall appearance seemed to speak of a terrible past in one way or another, one no human or dragon should ever have to suffer through.

Then the blue dragon leaped over at Viggo, seeming to ignore Valka-

And feinted at the last second, landing on Ember and violently slamming his head down into the stone street twice before suddenly freezing.

Valka took the opportunity to take a few steps back, and almost bumped into Viggo, who was staring incredulously. The blue dragon's eyes were slits now, which made no sense, and it nosed at Ember as if hoping he would wake.

Drago howled angrily from behind the still-fighting front lines, unable to reach them without breaking his own line and losing his side the fight. "No! Finish them!"

The blue dragon, now entirely controlled, seemed to agree with that command wholeheartedly. It lunged for Valka and Viggo, almost screaming in frustration.

Valka dove to one side; Viggo the other. The blue Night Fury landed between them, and sideswiped Valka with its tail. It was entirely enraged now, but moving slower.

Slower. She had gotten this one with the knife Viggo insisted she carry. Valka rolled out of the way before the dragon's tail could lash at her, and swung her staff, scoring a hit on its bloodied and wounded side before being forced back. Now, in a one-on-two fight, and flagging besides, she could actually attack.

And so could Viggo. He was clearly going for truly damaging strikes with his sword, and swung at the dragon's neck-

Only for the Night Fury to bite down on his sword in a sudden burst of speed belying its gradually slowing body, yanking it front him and snapping it into many pieces.

Viggo took a step back, grinning madly. It was obvious why; the Night fury's mouth was bleeding in many places from biting down on a sharp sword, and it had to have gotten a _lot_ of the tranquilizer in the process.

Sure enough, it stumbled almost immediately, the Bewilderbeast in control of it forcing it to keep going, but only able to work with the body, and all that afflicted it.

Valka saw no need to strike again, and simply watched as the dragon collapsed, gradually going limp. It was still breathing, as it should be.

Viggo looked at the shards of his sword, and then up at her. "Well, we're done here."

"Almost." Ember and the other dragon needed to be safely caged, however much Valka despised thinking of any creature being caged, but there was still a battle going on. She gestured mutely at the line of clashing, dying Vikings holding the street.

"Ah, yes. We need to get past here," Viggo mused. "Well, Drago seems to consider this a lost cause, so why not? All Hunters, clear the street!"

At that call, the battered and in many cases bleeding reserves that had been held back to distract the Furies joined the fight in any way they could, reaching between and in some cases under or over the Hunters holding the line to stab at those they fought. Drago's men were faltering, probably because they had just seen their side's most powerful fighters downed. It was a matter of moments before the line broke, Drago's men running in all directions.

But what did Viggo mean by Drago considering this to be a lost cause? Valka looked down the street, trying to find where the large, sinister warlord had gone… and saw nothing. Several different alleyways were visible, but all were empty as far as she could see, and Drago was nowhere to be found.

"Now," Viggo remarked, turning to her, "they must be caged. You may also wish to tranquilize Ember; we don't know how long a simple blow to the head will last."

"Does it matter?" Valka asked skeptically. "Your cages are made to be dragon-proof."  
"Ember has broken out of my cages before," Viggo explained, "and he could do it again. Best to be sure."

Well… Valka eyed her knife and staff, both totally capable of making sure Ember would not come back to bite them, literally or figuratively, before the Bewilderbeast was dead. It made sense that she should do it.

Something inside her was very, very uncomfortable with this. She looked to the blue Night Fury, which was still out, and would not wake for several days…

They might need Ember in the next few days, especially since Viggo would stab them in the back once Drago was done with. Viggo wanted Ember totally out of the picture for the time being.

"The blow to the head is enough; Ember has a tendency to sleep for far longer than most dragons when knocked out," Valka rationalized, distinctly aware that she was actually telling the truth, assuming Pearl and Storm had not been exaggerating in saying he had slept for three days straight once before.

Viggo shrugged, as if it did not matter to him. "You are aware that we may have to kill him if he breaks out at a bad time."

"That won't happen." Viggo not liking her choice just made her more sure it was the right one. "Now have your men get them into cages, and let me test the keys."

Viggo complied with a wry grin, and soon Hunters were pulling the two Night Furies to cages that had been brought on carts from nearby stockpiles.

Valka made sure to watch those carrying Ember very closely the entire time. There was no funny business. Then she took the keys to the cages, and tested both. They worked without any issues.

"How do we make sure nobody decides to kill the captured Night Furies?" Valka asked, now a little worried about leaving the two cages out in the open.

"Allow me to explain something, my dear Collector," Viggo said patronizingly. "In games such as these, important pieces are not killed, only captured. Drago wields dragons as weapons; killing either of these two would be like him stealing powerful and dangerous swords only to snap them over his knee. Stupid and pointless."

"And you use them as currency, things to be bought and sold," Valka gritted. "You are no better."

"What do you do with them? You collect, obviously…" Viggo's eyes lit up, and he laughed smugly. "To save, I suppose? You play a very deceptive game."

He had figured that out way too easily. "As if you didn't already know that," she accused. "It is not important; you still need what I have to offer."

"That I do." Viggo looked around, noting the now totally trashed street around them and the ragged remains of his forces, less than forty strong. "I cannot spare men to guard them, but this is now my territory again. Hiding the cages should be sufficient until your dragons can move them wherever you wish."

Again, Valka could not argue the logic in that, but she watched carefully as the cages were shifted to rest in a nearby piles of unused ones, and then covered with tarps. "If I come to get them and there is nothing here, there will be Hel to pay," she threatened.

"Anybody who touches those cages dies," Viggo agreed patronizingly. He looked over his men. "I need _all_ of you with me, anyway. We have a king of dragons to kill."

With that announcement, they left, moving quickly through the trashed or abandoned streets, and gathering stragglers as they went. As far as Valka could tell, Viggo's side was slowly winning here, but it was a big island, and as she recalled, there were several fronts. He still needed her and the dragons' help.

Then they reached the docks, coming out from behind a large building, and she saw what they still had to face.

Only one side of the island had an actual shore and docks; the rest were cliffs. Thus, the Bewilderbeast had collapsed in the water by the docks, and in the process trashed a few of Drago's ships, along with sending a few less securely-moored ships out to sea, where they floated harmlessly, totally irrelevant for the moment. Trashed machinery lined the docks and shore, and the Bewilderbeast lay on its side in the water, spines piercing docks and now sunken ships alike.

"It hasn't moved," Viggo observed. "And it's got no guards now. I suspect your Furies will be along shortly."

She hadn't even thought to look up, too focused on the scene in front of her. Sure enough, Storm, Pearl, and Thorn were gone. Hopefully that meant what Viggo was assuming, and not that they were just fighting somewhere else on the island.

The hunters were spreading out, now. Several traveled along the shore to get a better look at the Bewilderbeast's front, while most began to try and salvage the large weaponry littering the area, all at Viggo's command. He seemed to know what he was doing, at least, which was good, because Valka had no idea how they were going to end this massive dragon.

"Sir!" one of the hunters sent to check the front called out. "It's awake!"

"Of course it is; I doubt it was controlling Ember in its sleep," Viggo muttered. Louder, he called back, "is it aware of you?"

"It's watchin' me, if that's what you mean!" the hapless man yelled back.

"Well, he's dead," Viggo remarked, looking back at the massive ice spikes entombing parts of the island behind them.

Strangely enough, the Bewilderbeast did not prove Viggo right. The hunters in its line of sight eventually returned, still unaware of how much danger they had been in.

Now Viggo seemed less sure of himself. "It may be paralyzed, or it may just be sure we can do nothing to hurt it," he murmured. "I must be sure which before deciding on a plan."

He had better decide fast. Valka wanted this done with, and sooner rather than later. She was beginning to feel an itch in her back, as if anticipating the metaphorical knife that would soon be stabbing her. Viggo was planning _something_ , and everything up to this point had gone far too well. There had to be something she could do to entirely prevent him turning on them sooner or later, but she didn't see what.

Or maybe the itch on her back was from not knowing what had become of Drago. He was still out there, somewhere. She was sure they had not seen the last of him.

O-O-O-O-O

One more dragon to kill and the day was as good as won. Viggo mentally cataloged what he had available.

Men. Two score in all, tired but ready to end this, and invigorated by the promised glory of driving Drago's forces away with Night Furies helping them. They might not like dragons, but any warrior would enjoy that novelty. They would do whatever was needed.

Equipment. The hunters at his disposal all still had their weapons, but such things were laughably worthless against a beast this size. The jar of 'tranquilizer' Viggo knew to be poison was also here, but while that might help sedate the beast, he did not plan to wait three days for it to die, so it was of no more use than an actual tranquilizer would be.

Dragons. Once the Collector's three Furies returned, which they probably would, he had three Night Furies at his disposal as well, though he would not be able to rely on them too heavily.

Environment. He had plenty of explosives to work with; his men were even now searching the contraptions that used Zippleback gas to bath ships and invading armies in flame, looking for unused and unbroken canisters. That was promising-

A minor explosion echoed out from down the shore. Viggo only looked up long enough to confirm that it was just one of his fire-throwers exploding because someone had not been careful in dismantling it to get to the apparently viable gas still inside. One less canister of gas, and a few less men. A small loss.

"Sir, the Night Furies are returning," someone called out. Viggo snapped out of his planning mindset entirely and saw that the Collector was also looking to the sky.

He could snap a sharp question as to _which_ Night Furies were returned, but he didn't bother, just looking to the sky to see for himself.

Black, gold, light green. The ones he could use, not the enemy's dragons. Good, though that also meant the enemy Furies had actually been subdued, and would not die from the 'tranquilizer.' Even better, really, as long as he managed to get them down at the same time as the others, after all of this was over.

It was also good, if a little risky, that Ember was not going to die. Viggo would have been fine with it either way, and now he might still get a chance to look into that mystery too.

And to top it all off, Drago's Fury was as good as dead. He considered that one just a bonus to dissect on his own time, as the pelt was far too scarred to be any use to anyone.

And on the subject of Furies… the three he was still going to be able to use for the time being had converged on the Collector, and the four of them were looking at him.

He really needed to figure that woman out, too. She would end up a captive like all the dragons, so he could hold his curiosity in check for now, but she intrigued him more than any woman ever had. She might actually make a good opponent, under less manipulatable circumstances. A pity that wasn't going to happen.

"We are taking our cages, and then we will return to help end this," the Collector asserted.

"Where will you take them? I can set a guard," Viggo offered, inwardly grimacing. He didn't want to be too obvious, but he needed to have a general idea of where to look.

"No guard, and you'll see," the Collector replied amiably enough, before hopping onto the back of the black Night Fury, which seemed to be her preferred mount of the three. They were gone in an instant.

No matter. They could not go anywhere he could not reach. Three Night Furies could probably carry a cage a short distance, but there were no good islands anywhere close to here to hide on, and this island was his domain. The sea stacks were also his domain, and they were all too far out for a cage to be air-lifted to.

Viggo turned his considerable mental power back to the immediate problem at hand. He had explosives, slow-acting poison, manpower, and probably a few powerful Night Fury blasts if he needed them. What could he do with that?

It all depended on whether the Bewilderbeast was capable of moving if it wanted to. If not, then he could just send some men to attack the eyes and face, and dig until they hit something vital.

But if it could, he might only have one good shot. That shot would have to include the 'tranquilizer' as a safeguard, but what else could he-

Well, that was fast. Three Night Furies, straining mightily, flew across his field of view, taking a cage out to sea… and dropping it on a nearby ship, one of Drago's that had been knocked out to sea by the Bewilderbeast. One that was still floating, off of his island, obviously abandoned.

Viggo couldn't hold in a real grimace at that realization. It was not by any means unassailable, especially without any men to crew it, but it was by far the best choice available to the Collector. He was not used to his opponents making the best choice whenever possible; everyone screwed up often enough to be exploited.

Still, the best choice on a list of options that only included bad choices was no big deal. She was just dragging it out and making things interesting. Fine by him.

In quick succession, two more cages were flown out to the ship and left on its deck, one of which had to be the Stormcutter. Then the Furies were apparently done. Wherever their other companions were, they were not in cages.

"We can get the others after this is done," the Collector explained, hopping off of the dragon that had carried her. "We need this Bewilderbeast dead before they wake."

"You didn't put them in cages, I suppose," Viggo remarked wryly. "Thank you for giving us a deadline." Really, at this point it felt like they were intentionally making this more difficult for him. He would rise to the challenge regardless. "Fine. I need you to airdrop the jar of tranquilizer into its wound, along with those." He pointed to the slowly growing pile of canisters painstakingly salvaged from the broken war machines. "The wound is on the upper back, and may require shifting a spike to get to, but it's there."

That was the full extent of the planning he could do without knowing whether or not the Bewilderbeast would be able to flee once they proved they could and would injure it further.

The Collector nodded and took the jar. She and the Night Furies began a quick series of trips to the dragon's back. It didn't even seem to notice them.

Viggo's curiosity got the better of him, and while the Collector and her dragons were ferrying the supplies, he went down the shore to look at the Bewilderbeast's face. His men had proven that safe enough at the moment.

Really, there wasn't much to see. It was staring into space as if unaware of what was happening around it, and there was nothing to see in those massive eyes.

This did not feel like the work of his acid. Viggo didn't know what was happening to this dragon, or why it had apparently ceased to be able to take new dragons under control. Really, if he knew how Drago controlled it, he would not want it dead either. This could have been the perfect tool to raise his dragon-dealing empire to the top of the world, unchallengeable by any.

It still could be, at that. He just had to find another, somewhere, and replicate what Drago had done, somehow. A possible plan for some future day.

Viggo was broken from his plans of future domination by a Night Fury landing right in front of him. He did not jump, but anyone would be startled by that.

"Done," the Collector reported. "Now what?"

"Blast it from a distance," Viggo instructed. "The canisters will blow, and hopefully finish the job my men and I started earlier."

"And if not?" the Collector asked.

"We shall see how it reacts, and go from there." He had no real plans; they all hinged on the result of this one. There were precious few ways to injure such a massive dragon, and his best shot had been the acid. All of this was just struggling to finish the job with whatever was lying around.

"I may have a suggestion," the Collector remarked, sliding off of the Night Fury. "Beryl, go up and prepare to do as he said. Don't do it until someone tells you to though, just in case."

The Night Fury left them to go circle above the Bewilderbeast, joining the other two in what Viggo suspected was almost a mocking parody of what the enthralled dragons had done.

"What is this suggestion?" he asked curiously. Yes, the Collector was an interesting woman. Maybe she would have something he could adapt and improve.

"Do you have parchment?" she asked casually. "I need to draw it out, and we don't want to waste time drawing in the sand."

"In the tavern," he responded, leading the way. She was right; drawing in the sand was not good for precise details. He pushed the doors to the nearby tavern open, and went behind the counter. All business operated on his island were forced to keep strict records, and that meant-

There, under a stack of knives that really had no business being there. He pulled up a large, untidy stack of parchment and box of charcoal pencils, and dropped them on the counter between them. "What do you have in mind?"

The Collector began to sketch an outline of the docks and the Bewilderbeast's body. She circled the injury. "See this?"  
"Yes."

"Do you have any ballistae?" She handed him the charcoal pencil. "Draw them on here."

He was beginning to get the idea. Blast the weak spot, and if that wasn't enough but the dragon hadn't moved, fire ballista bolts into the larger open wound they were sure to create. He marked the locations of three ballistae eagerly, already thinking of what could be done to the-

The Collector lashed out and down with her other hand without warning, pinning his hand to the parchment and the counter with a knife. Viggo lurched back in shock, his hand flooding his body with pain, scrabbling for his sword before remembering that it wasn't there.

"Looks like you underestimated me, too," the Collector noted calmly, staring at him. "I don't know how you planned to betray us, but you did. We'll be long gone by the time you wake up from this."

Viggo looked down at the knife that was pinning his hand to the counter. The yellow-stained knife. The one he had given her, and smeared with fatal poison.

"You still need my help," he gasped incredulously.

"Not really. You're not the only one who can plan; if the explosion doesn't kill it, we can manage the rest," she explained, making for the door. "Better to handle the rest ourselves than have you at our back once this is over."

With that, she was gone. Viggo slumped, the agony shooting from his still-pinned hand growing dull, though he was now pulling on it, cutting it further with the knife.

His last thought was one of incredulous surprise. Had the Collector really beaten him with the same tactic he was using on her, and killed him without even knowing it? That didn't seem right.

But it was poetic, in a way, that he was going to die from a miscalculation on his part, and not any real cunning of his enemy. Only he could defeat himself.

O-O-O-O-O

One by one, his free eyes were closed. Their minds drifted, his for the moment, always his, but no longer active. He maintained the constant flow of horrible memories for all four of his downed dark and light wings out of pure spite. They would not remember, but he could feel their anguish now, and that satisfied him.

Of his multitude of other, lesser eyes, almost all remained trapped, as trapped as he was in his own body.

No! He mentally pulled away from that horrible void the one dark wing's mind had contained, knowing it was futile. His mental _grip_ , the mental ice spikes that were to be sent digging for control, were all either tied up in currently held bodies or held hostage by that terrible darkness.

But it was not the darkness that had removed what control he had over his own body. That had cut out before he had discovered the horrible void. He did not understand what had severed his own mind from his body. The only pain he felt was a small one in his back, now, one that ebbed and flowed, curiously distant. It was almost not a pain at all, as unmanipulatable as the rest of him.

His eyes saw the ruined and scorched shore. There were No-scaled-not-prey around, but they were not attacking his face, which was good. He wasn't sure he could defend himself.

Where was alpha? He did not like the dark No-scaled-not-prey, but it valued him, and he had not yet cut himself loose from it. It would protect him.

It would protect him. He could no longer protect himself, but surely the dark alpha would fix that. It always made sure he could control others for it, feeding him from infancy, setting its subordinate dark wing to teach him, substituting itself for his Dam and Sire from the very moment he hatched.

But now it was not here. He heard the shriek of a dark wing, one of the lucky ones he would have for himself in moments if not for this crippling, capturing void-

Then there was an even more distant explosion, sound and a tiny pinprick of heat, and his mind began to fade. Something had happened, but he could not move, and his mind was just as stuck.

Even as everything faded, the void that had doomed him held on. He lost control of all other dragons, but still, it clung.

He knew he was dying, somehow. His mind sought an escape. This body was doomed, but he took others for himself. What if he could embrace the void? Maybe once it had him it would let him rule that body and rebuild. He could do that.

But… he was trying. Nothing was changing, his strength was fading, and his mind was still firmly anchored in his body. The void he now saw as his only hope was still there, touching him but somehow out of reach all the same.

He desperately threw himself at the void. It almost tauntingly let go and receded the moment before the end, firmly cutting him off from his last escape, entirely breaking all contact with his mind.

For the first time since he had begun to develop his latent ability for holding minds captive, the Bewilderbeast was utterly alone in his own head.

And then that ceased to matter as his body breathed its last.

O-O-O-O-O

Claw, pain, suffering, smoke, ash in her nostrils-

Pearl awoke with a rough cough, somewhat aware that she had just escaped a nightmare of some sort. Claw was far, far away, and besides, she had people to protect her now, if she could not protect herself.

That thought annoyed her, and she shook her head. She would protect herself, somehow. Eventually. Maybe she should learn to fight before going back, or on the way back. Storm could teach her.

The sound of rock hitting more rock right by Pearl's head alerted her that something was off. She opened her eyes, and at the same time noticed that there were small, dense weights all over her body. Not enough to crush or even hurt her, but they were everywhere.

What was going on? Pearl stood, shaking off the debris that had quite thoroughly covered her, and looked around in increasing confusion. A trashed No-scaled-not-prey building, on a just as ruined pathway lined with similarly broken things. Why was she here?

What was the last thing she remembered? Flying in despite Ember's request that they stay away from the Bewilderbeast, being knocked out of the sky by its mental strength, succumbing to its power, defiant to the last.

Then nothing. It had threatened her with her worst memories on repeat for the rest of her life, but she remembered nothing. Had it actually tortured her as promised, or was that a lie?

Did it matter either way? She couldn't remember it, and she had not given in, not even when she believed she would suffer. Storm would be proud.

But… it was over. Meaning she had been released. So either the Bewilderbeast had totally freed her… or it was dead. Somehow.

Pearl shivered and made her way out into the empty pathway between structures, looking for anyone else she knew. Where was Ember? Where were Storm and Thorn and everyone else? Surely they would not just have abandoned her here.

It was a small comfort that she did not doubt that for even a fraction of a second. They had not abandoned her. They cared too much to do that.

She looked one way down the stone-paved path. Nothing. The other way-

The other way held a sight she had not expected to see. Judging by his hesitation, Drago had not expected to see her, either. He was as alone as she was, skulking in the shadows, heading somewhere by the looks of it, though she did not know or care where.

Really, it was funny, now. He was funny. He skulked as if he could hide, where before he expected others to want to hide from him. His Bewilderbeast was gone, and probably the rest of his forces too. He was just a large No-scaled-not-prey with unnerving eyes, now. She couldn't hold in a rumbling laugh at how far this particular bad alpha had fallen.

Her laughter seemed to spur him to face her, instead of sneaking away. He stepped into the open, his eyes murderous. "You."

"Me," she chirped, before and spreading her wings to fly. This one should die here, but she didn't need to fight him.

Then something poked at her mind, not more mental intrusion, just a new thought surfacing to be considered. Would she never fight for herself? Never do anything directly? She had to face Claw someday soon. This would be practice. Good practice.

It was foolish, but it felt like something Storm would do. That meant it was a good idea. Pearl refolded her wings and crouched, snarling. This bad alpha would fall to her. She would avenge Gold, however little he deserved vengeance.

Drago pointed his weapon at her. "I will take your life, as I should have. Fly away." He grinned. "Or fight?"

"Fight," she replied, knowing he did not understand, and pounced, blasting at his terrible face as she did.

Drago twisted, catching the blast on his cloak-shrouded arm, a strange ringing resounding as it impacted, and swung his bullhook.

Pearl howled as it cut across her chest, barely missing her neck, a long diagonal gash that was wide and painful. She crumpled from the shock, not even making it to Drago.

A heavy boot pinned her head to the ground. Drago laughed scornfully, raising his bullhook. "So weak and foolish. You do not deserve to fight for me in any case."

O-O-O-O-O

Storm and Thorn both fired at the same moment. Storm had not even been aware Thorn was beside her, much less awake and watching Pearl, but that didn't matter now. Both of them shrugged off the oddly plentiful debris covering them and rushed out to Pearl. Thorn frantically licked at her wound, while Storm, unable to reach Pearl's chest, cleared the bloody remains of that monstrous No-scaled-not-prey off of her, starting with her face. "Come on, you know better than that," she scolded half-heartedly. "Right, Pearl?"

"What?" Pearl moaned. "What happened?"

Storm spit out a somewhat large chunk of flesh, and almost gagged at the taste of metal, even stronger than blood should taste of it. Some of the No-scaled-not-prey had to be pure metal, for her to taste it that strongly. Maybe all No-scaled-not-prey were part metal. She would have to ask Ember. "We blew that monster to pieces, of course," she explained brightly. All else aside, _that_ had been satisfying.

"Where… were you?" Pearl gasped, whining as Thorn cleaned the wound.

Oh, right, Pearl probably wanted to know why she hadn't interfered sooner. "I was in some random pile of rubble. I heard you talking, so I just shook my head off and watched. I assumed you could handle a single No-scaled-not-prey on your own, even that one. They are not very tough." She felt more than a little guilty about that now, in retrospect. Pearl was not lightly injured; this could very well be serious. "I should have shown myself and helped immediately, but you seemed so confident about your odds…"

Pearl shook her head wildly. "I shouldn't have been. I don't know how to fight."

Somehow, that was both a huge surprise and no surprise at all, at the same time. "How can you not?" All fledglings were taught to fight, in every nest Storm had ever been.

"I was never taught," Pearl whined, looking over at Thorn. "That really hurts."

"It is a large wound," Thorn agreed worriedly. "Not so deep, but it will definitely scar."

Pearl laughed tiredly, sounding both amused and worried. "I finally got one," she breathed.

Since when had Pearl wanted a scar? Storm resolved to ask that later, once they were out of this horrible place, and leaped into the air, seeking the others.

_**Author's Note:** _ **And so, that battle reaches its conclusion. Now, to answer a question in a maddeningly unhelpful manner.**

**How bad is Pearl's wound? Well, probably not immediately fatal; she's got way too many unresolved plot threads to kill off right now. And we've still got… what, five more chapters to go, not counting the extra surprise after the epilogue? Well, we couldn't count that, given nobody knew about it until now.**

**Also, because I know several of you were expecting some horrifically high price to be paid here… sorry? I've written half a dozen different versions of this whole fight, and none kill off any of our main Furies. Some have current plot threads going, others future, and some just don't deserve to be snuffed out simply to satisfy an arbitrary need for the heroes to suffer permanent loss here. There was never going to be a plot-relevant protagonist death here, simply because there was no call for one. (And yes, I did totally build up to the point where a single change could have killed off pretty much everyone; they only survived because of luck, in some cases). Plot-relevant antagonist deaths, on the other hand, abound. Even more so than shown in this chapter, in two cases.**


	29. Results

**_Author's Note:_ Why yes, this is a huge chapter. I would feel far too cruel in splitting this into two, as it's mostly small things and resolutions to minor arcs… and if I split it into two, I'd be postponing the real cliffhanger coming at the end of this chapter. Have fun with that one!**

**Also, a quick apology to those who follow Living Anonymously; no chapter this week, simply because the rewrite of the next chapter is not finished, and I have nothing to show. Rest assured, it's coming next week. (This kind of thing is a big part of why I prewrite in the first place).**

**… And a quick update: I changed a little, mostly to fix small (or not so small) OOC moments for pretty much everyone. Nothing plot-important changed at all, I was just correcting a few obvious mistakes pointed out by a certain reviewer.**

This time, when Ember awoke, it was not to Pearl licking him across the nose. He came to on his own time, slowly rising from the murky darkness to consciousness, a headache growing to replace the darkness. He groaned, not at all enjoying the dull throbbing throughout his skull, and rolled onto his feet.

Paws. Feet. He was so disoriented, he couldn't tell for a second, but the fact that he was naturally lying on all fours strongly implied he was a dragon right now.

And the fact that there was, by what he could feel, wood underneath him, meant he probably wasn't all that safe right now. Wood meant human construction, which meant imprisonment, probably.

"Easy," a human voice cautioned. Valka. "You took a lot of minor injuries, and most are nowhere close to healed yet."

Injuries… Ember let himself feel the pain he had up until now pushed aside. So many cuts, scrapes, and bruises lined his entire body that he could scarcely believe it. Most of them were not strong pains, superficial wounds that really weren't much of an issue, but some were more serious, deeper pains that would take time to heal. What had happened?

He couldn't remember. Given the injuries he had taken, maybe that was a good thing. He'd think about it later.

Right now… "Who's still in danger?"

It took Valka a second to puzzle out what he meant. "Nobody. It's over, and we got what we came for. The Bewilderbeast is dead, and so is Drago."

Okay, on to the next most pressing issue. "Viggo?"

"Taking a several-day rest," Valka said smugly. She put a hand on Ember's forehead. "I took care of him myself."

"Anyone hurt?" Aside from himself, that was. He was a little worried that nobody else had spoken yet, but his headache was so bad he didn't want to open his eyes, sure any light would be excruciatingly painful. "Where are we?"

"Almost everybody got away with just some bruises and headaches," Valka said slowly. "We are on an abandoned ship, some way away from Viggo's island."

"Almost?" Somebody was badly hurt. Who?

"She will live," Valka said quickly, both hands on Ember's head now. "You need rest. Don't get up; a lot of your wounds will reopen."

"Who?" Storm, Thorn, or Pearl. Somehow, he already knew, but he needed to be sure.

"Pearl took a large and somewhat serious wound to the chest; it is healing well."

Ember's heart dropped, and he forced his eyes open, ignoring the sudden increase in throbbing pain. "Where?"

Valka was still pushing down on his head, now trying to keep him from getting up. "A little help here?" she called out.

A large weight pinned Ember down. "You should not move."

Given he didn't know the dragon speaking, he assumed it was the Stormcutter he still had yet to actually meet. "Get off. I need to see her."

"She is resting up on deck; you cannot get to her without prolonging your own healing," Valka cautioned. "Stay here. Once your deeper wounds scab over, you can go up there."

"And if I don't stay?" Ember asked, weighing the risks. Aside from what Valka had mentioned, he wasn't entirely sure if he could walk, his headache was so strong.

"I will pin you and wait," the Stormcutter rumbled seriously. "What is the hurry? I am told you are not mates, and she is obviously not related to you."

That question struck Ember with a related thought, one that opened up a pit of confusion and anxiety. The battle was over. Once Pearl recovered, she would ask him what his decision was… and he still didn't know.

"Rest," Valka repeated. "You need to heal, and by all appearances you'll be well long before she is, as long as you do not mess it up."

"Fine." For the moment, he was too confused and disoriented by his blinding headache to do anything but give in. He had too much to think about, anyway, and there was the slight risk Pearl would ask for an answer the moment she saw him…

Best to stay away and heal. He needed just a little more time to figure himself out. He could wait, even if he didn't really want to.

But there were more questions he needed to ask, things that were bothering him. "Why is nobody else down here?"

"We just got you out of the cage; nobody expected you to be awake yet," Valka explained. "Right now, Storm and Thorn are tending to Pearl, while Beryl, Herb, and Spark are making sure nobody from the island launches any sort of attack on our ship. They will all be down here the moment they are sure nobody will die or be attacked in the next hour."

"And you are not up there because..?"

"Because I am tending your wounds, impatient dragon," Valka quipped, holding up a bone needle and several other tools of said activity. "There was nothing I could do for Pearl, but you had a lot of deep, thin wounds I could sew up."

"Thank you." He was not really in the right frame of mind to argue or ask any more questions. Best to save his strength for reuniting with the rest of his family as soon as they could be spared from the tasks they had taken up.

O-O-O-O-O

Up above, on the deck of the ship, Storm was also waiting, refusing to leave Pearl's side. Not that there was anywhere to go. Still, she could stretch her wings. Pearl was asleep anyway.

But she couldn't just leave the Light Fury here. Thorn had gone off to get fish, while the other Furies were all circling the ship from a distance, keeping an eye out. Valka and the Stormcutter were below, watching over Ember. Storm balked at abandoning Pearl even for a moment. Somebody needed to be here for her if something changed.

So she ignored the urge to fly and eyed Pearl's chest again, for the tenth time in the last minute. The wound had been superficial, if bloody, and while it would definitely leave quite the scar, it would heal, by all appearances. Pearl was lucky it had not been worse; it easily could have cut much deeper, and Drago had been about to stab her again.

Storm purred happily at the resolution to that particular memory. That one was nothing more than a splatter of blood and charred flesh covering a good distance of ground. And metal bits, oddly. She still needed to ask Ember about that once he recovered from Second knocking him out.

And thinking of Second…

Storm looked over to the only cage still on the ship, the one that contained the dragon in question. Nobody quite knew what to do with him. Apparently, he would be out for another few days, so they had time. She herself didn't want to be anywhere near him, even if he had saved Ember. Second was nothing but an irritant, and she would tell him as much once he woke.

Maybe she wouldn't say that, actually. She still hadn't fixed the last set of problems holding a grudge had caused.

Herb was one of the dragons circling, protecting the ship. Storm watched him for a while, not sure what to think. She did not remember what she had done while enthralled, but Herb could not even look her in the eye now. Something had happened, and she was worried the Bewilderbeast had rummaged through her memories to use them as weapons against Herb, if he had been in the way. She could imagine many ways in which someone who lied could utterly destroy Herb, speaking with her body and memories.

What made that whole possibility even worse was that she thought she could finally forgive. It had come slowly, and she had probably waited longer than necessary, but with the end of this whole mess, she wanted to put this past grievance behind her too. But now she had waited too long, and someone else might have stabbed into that open wound before she could close it and let it heal.

Thorn returned bearing fish, dropping onto the deck with a weary thud. "Oh, is she still asleep?"

"She has not woken up once," Storm reported. It was no use asking Thorn what had happened; she had apparently been enthralled at the same time, and for the same duration. The same applied to Pearl, and worryingly enough, Ember. Storm was almost annoyed, in a morbid way, that she had not gotten to see what the Bewilderbeast did with Ember's body and abilities. Or maybe she did not mind missing that. It was hard to tell when she did not know what had happened.

"And how are you?" Thorn asked. "We skipped the 'teary reunion' thanks to what was going on at the time." She was right, at that. They had basically just flown around and found the others, and then gotten right to work getting Pearl out to the ship. This was the first time they had a moment to talk that could not be filled with more immediate, important things.

"It would not be much of a reunion anyway; for us, it had only been seconds since we last saw each other," Storm muttered. "I am fine. Bruised all over for some reason, but fine." She was actually pretty sure a few of her ribs were cracked or broken, but those would be fine with time and rest, both of which she could get.

"I have a headache, but it is fading," Thorn agreed. "I am not sure I want to know how I was taken down."

"I do. Somebody in this family beat me in a fight; I have to find out who, and how." She needed to know, if only to satisfy her own curiousity. Hopefully, she had not gone down too easily, though she also dreaded the idea of her claws carving marks into Herb or either of her nephews.

"Well, I am going to go call in the males," Thorn announced. "There is room on this ship for all of us, and unless I am unaware of something, there is no reason to by quite so worried about being attacked right this moment. We will see them coming long before they arrive." With that, she took off, and quickly flew out to the patrolling dragons, calling them in.

Storm felt a cold, heavy knot in her stomach as Herb and the others approached. She had to find out what her body and voice had done, and fix it, and she had to fix-

Everything. She made that resolution, once and for all. She was sick and tired of not having everything right with Herb. As soon as he landed, she would fix things.

Herb's four paws thumped onto the deck; Storm rushed forward and stared into his eyes, leaving only a small amount of space between them. She looked at his good eye, and tried to see what he thought of her.

Guilt. Shame. Something else she could not place. She hated to see that, and she really hated that he looked away after only a moment. This needed to end; she could not take it now.

"What did I do?" she asked loudly. "While I was out? You cannot even look at me."

Herb flinched. "You did not do anything," he admitted. "As usual, it was me."

"And..?" she asked, unable to believe her luck. What had he done? Clearly nothing lasting, as she was not all that hurt aside from the aforementioned bruising and possible broken bones. The fact that she had not done anything was far more important; it meant she could still heal the wounds she had let fester before more damage was done to them.

"When Beryl, Spark and I flew out to take down you and the other females," Herb said quietly, not looking at her, "I fought you. I hurt you, even if it was Beryl to take you down."

Storm made a show of looking herself over. "You did not hurt me." Time to get this done. "You never really have. I am the one hurting you, over and over again."

Herb looked up, his good eye shining with disbelief.

Storm became aware that Spark, Thorn, and Beryl were watching. So much the better. She wanted them to see that she was admitting her failures, so that they would know she had. She deserved the shame having witnesses might invoke.

"No, I lied-"

Storm snarled. "And I made you pay for it. Then I made you pay again, and again, for season-cycles on end. You have paid far too much for a lie told in the hopes of not hurting me." All of this was truth she had known for a long time; letting go of her grudge had been the hard part, because it meant, very much like with Ember, that she had nobody to blame but herself. "I have a problem with holding on to things far too long because I do not want to blame myself."

Storm leaned in, embracing Herb. "I do not care who Sired me; you are the one I call Sire, and you are the only one I will ever consider to be my Sire." That, too, was truth, though she could hazily remember calling Second's brother her 'true Sire' or some other stupid title in the past. That was never going to happen again.

"That is more than I ever hoped to hear," Herb purred, fully embracing her in return, resting his head on her wing shoulder. "Thank you."

"You should not be thanking me," Storm murmured. That brought other problems to mind, but she lingered with Herb for just a moment more.

Then she pulled back, but only to move around to his side and face the rest of the dragons on deck. She was done holding things to herself. She was no liar or deceiver; speaking one's mind was always best. "I have done many bad things. I was terrible to you, to Pearl, and to Ember. Ember, I might have let die out of spite. Pearl, I was cruel and rude to. You, I let suffer out of stubbornness. I am done doing those things."

"Ember might have died?" Beryl asked, sounding somewhat angry. "I did not know that. Explain."

Storm cringed. Somehow, she had known that was not going to go away, no matter how long nobody asked about it.

Herb rested his wing on her back, reminding her that he was there. She didn't expect him to try and defend her; he understood that she needed to do this herself. She liked that.

"He needed a reason to live," Storm replied, facing Beryl's anger. "Pearl and I were told my accepting him as family and truly convincing him that I would miss him might help him move on. I was not going to do that, pretty much no matter what."

"Pearl never told us about this," Thorn said quietly. "Neither did Ember."

"Nobody asked, and I think Ember just wanted to let me move on and try to be better," Storm admitted. "But I do not hide things, and that has gone unknown for too long already."

"You were going to let my Sire die," Spark murmured, staring at Storm with hurt eyes. "After he saved you?"

"I am not proud of it now," Storm replied vehemently. "If I could go back, I would do exactly the opposite." That too was true. She was best when she told the whole truth and did not lie, even by omission. This was freeing, no matter how badly they were taking it.

"Daughter…" Thorn growled. "We are going to speak of this later. I am going to hear everything about what you did."

Then, something in Thorn's eyes softened just a little. "And that is all that will happen. You are a grown dragon, and punishments are for fledglings who do not know what they did was wrong, or will not admit fault, or will not try and change. You are making none of those mistakes."

"Punishment is also for those who have done bad things; there does not always need to be a reason aside from that," Beryl objected. "She was going to let him die. That is a terrible thing. She deserves some sort of consequence."

Storm nodded. Honestly, hearing it put that way, she agreed. "What do you suggest?"

Now Beryl looked uncomfortable, as all eyes turned to him. "Well," he said hesitantly, "I don't really know. Nothing physical; none of us would feel good about hurting you, even if you agreed you deserve it."

"But not some small thing, either," Storm countered, feeling only a little odd about arguing for a more severe punishment for herself. "Not something I can easily brush off or forget." Herb's wing was still on her back. He wasn't really participating in this discussion, probably because he didn't want to speak against her, either in suggesting a punishment or arguing she didn't need one. He was there; that was enough for her.

"There is not much we can take from you," Beryl remarked. "Taking a tailfin like Ember did with Second is too strong a punishment because it might be sentencing you to death if something goes wrong and you can't fly away with the rest of us."

"But flying is a privelege," Thorn countered, speaking up. "We can bring her food, so she does not need it to survive. How about making her promise not to fly for anything less than an emergency for a time?"

Storm shook out her wings. She didn't like that idea at all. "Maybe something else?" she requested. Flying was such an integral part of her life that she rarely even thought about it; she didn't know what she'd do with herself without it. The very idea made her want to jump into the air and away from the possibility.

Beryl's expression grew ever so slightly satisfied. "That will do," he agreed happily. "And we're not going to tell you how long."

Storm snarled at him. "What? I have a right to know." She hated the very idea, and not knowing how long she had to endure it made the whole thing ten times worse.

"Not if not knowing is part of the punishment," Beryl countered smugly. "You don't like this, and that is what makes it the right way to punish you. A punishment you do not mind is worthless."

She couldn't really argue that, though she still hated the idea. "Fine," she growled. "But I have to be able to fly when Pearl leaves. I am going with her."

"This is a punishment," Herb remarked softly. "It loses a little of its strength if exceptions are made for the things you really want." His voice was tentative. He wanted to keep her forgiveness, and was treading softly around her as a result.

"Sire," Storm hummed, not at all bothered by his objection, "you are right, but I am not saying this for my sake. Pearl needs my help; we are not going somewhere fun and carefree." She would explain everything to Herb later, once she could obtain Pearl's permission. Pearl's past was not Storm's secret to tell.

"We will not hold you back from that," Thorn agreed, nodding significantly to Herb, probably to let him know she knew what Storm was talking about. "But that might be quite a while from now. She has to recover first, and nobody knows how long that could take."

"And we might choose to let you off before then," Beryl added. "Just to be sure you don't see Pearl's recovery as the duration of your punishment."

Storm wilted slightly. She had been planning on exactly that. "I hate this idea," she grumbled, though that was all she said. She had argued for a strong punishment she could not forget; this more than fit the bill. "Somebody else tell Pearl and Ember. I do not want to." Both because she did not want to explain that she was being punished for what she had done, and that they were likely to not truly understand the need. Not the way she, Beryl, and possibly Thorn did.

"Maybe that should be part of it too," Beryl suggested.

Storm glared at him. "Do not push it," she said angrily. He was really getting on her nerves, and she wasn't going to forget this any time-

No. Storm wilted, hating how easily she had almost decided to start holding yet another grudge. Had it been that easy with Ember and Herb? She couldn't remember. This really was a bad habit that needed to go.

But she had stopped herself this time. She could do it. And she could hold to this punishment, to if not erase her past wrongdoing, then at least atone for it. That was fair.

No matter how hard it would be. Storm sat down, feeling almost as if she should be sitting on her own wings to keep herself on the floating wooden platform. She settled for pinning her tail. This was going to be a long… however long she was grounded for.

O-O-O-O-O

Thumping on the deck; voices. The others had come back.

"I'm going to go tell them you're up," Valka declared. "Ember, you really should not move. Please? I am calling them down here now."

He hadn't even shifted since hearing the noises that meant his family was almost within wing's reach; did she think he was planning to run up there the moment she left? "Bring Beryl down first, please." He had questions he wanted to ask his younger son, worries that Beryl could best assuage.

"Just Beryl? So you wish to be private?" Valka smiled warmly. "Come on, my friend," she requested, gesturing for the Stormcutter to follow her.

"Move and reopen those wounds, and I will pin you for days on end," the Stormcutter growled at Ember as he followed Valka out. "She put a lot of work into those."

A few moments later, Beryl descended through the large hatch and rushed Ember, stopping just short of tackling him. "Sorry, Sire, I don't want to hurt you."

"It is still good to see you," Ember laughed. "My head is mostly unhurt," he offered. "I'd also get up to meet you, but I probably shouldn't." He wanted to, though it had only been a few minutes, in his own mind, since he had last seen his son.

Beryl leaned in and licked the top of Ember's forehead. "It is great to see you awake," he rumbled seriously, pressing his forehead to Ember's and closing his eyes. "We came so close to losing you."

"I'm sorry," Ember hummed, though he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. His battered and war-torn body implied Beryl was not exaggerating. "I'm so sorry."

"I am. We had to fight you; some of those injuries are probably from me or Herb," Beryl explained. "Or Valka, or even Viggo, or maybe Drago. Possibly even Second. It's hard to be sure."

"It sounds like you know as much as I do," Ember quipped, trying to lighten the mood. All of this was leading into why he had wanted Beryl down here first, alone. Questions he needed answered. "Mind filling me in on what happened?"

"So… you really can't remember anything?" Beryl asked curiously.

"It is as if I blinked and woke up here," Ember admitted. "And I think that is for the best. What did I do?"

"Nothing. What you mean is 'what did the Bewilderbeast do using your body,' because that was not you," Beryl clarified.

"So?" He had to know, and he trusted Beryl to be frank but not too frank. Accurate but not detailed. Of all the dragons here, Beryl knew him better than any.

"He used you as another Second, from what I can tell," Beryl explained sadly. "Attacking on Drago's behalf, scattering resistance, destroying pockets of Viggo's hunters wherever they were… you were fighting alongside Second when Valka and Viggo got to you. Valka, Herb, Spark, and I tried to down you before that, but it was way too dangerous for all involved."

"But Viggo had a tranquilizer that would take me down quickly. I'm kind of surprised he did not just use the same arrows as always."

"He didn't even seem to consider them an option, for some reason," Beryl recalled. "That is odd, now that you bring it up."

"There is probably some limitation we don't know of that made them unfit for that specific scenario," Ember reasoned. "So… I fought and killed." It felt curiously far away, right next to the guilt he felt for leading them all into this latest catastrophy.

"Yes…"

"With my claws and teeth, because my fire would not be all the Bewilderbeast used."

"Yes."

"But only in this body?"

A pause.

"Because," Ember continued, "I really don't know. Something very unexpected was going on between what Vithvarandi did to me, and what the Bewilderbeast did. I still do not understand it."

"Well, we never saw you using any other body," Beryl warbled uncertainly. "You might have… but you were not killing dragons, and aren't No-scaled-not-prey way more resistant? Changing into one might have broken you free."

"Not if the control was already in place?" That was one question they might never have answered. Did his physical form changing also change his mind in a way that might affect the Bewilderbeast? At that, would changing into a dragon who was already under control before he killed them link him to the Bewilderbeast immediately?

Well, there was an easy answer to that last question. No, because death broke all connections between minds. The fact that he and the others were alive and well as if nothing had ever happened was proof of that. Changing into said previously enthralled body would be really stupid, because a living Bewilderbeast would be able to retake control almost immediately, having had it once before, but they would not be in control from the start.

"Ember? Are you okay?" Beryl asked worriedly, nosing at Ember's forehead, avoiding the wounds scattered across the entirety of the rest of him.

"Just thinking…" There were a lot of questions that would never be answered, but one in particular struck his mind as important. "We know my body killed while I was under control."

"Yes, it did." Beryl stared at him seriously. "And that was not you."

"Not my mind in control." Again, the guilt was distant. He was only to blame for falling under control, not for any of what came after. "But I should have some extra forms to assume now."

"Of couse."

"I don't."

"What?" Beryl barked. "You definitely should."

"I am trying now. Or I would be, if I could. I must know the body I took to use it." If he had to put it into words, he would describe it as imagining the body, and then pushing that image at the void in his head. It could be done almost instantly, now that he had practice, but… "I cannot remember who I killed. Without that memory, I cannot access their forms."

"But… if you do not remember them, does that mean you do not have the forms, or does it just mean they are there until… until the ones you know die?"

He understood what Beryl meant. "If I ever lose this and my human form, I might come back as one of the bodies I don't remember. Or I might just die, if they are gone for good. There is no way to know what not remembering a taken form means." Far too many questions without good answers.

"That stinks." Beryl groaned in frustration. "You say there was something strange going on between the Bewilderbeast and what Vithvarandi put into you?"

"The void, the thing that stores forms, latched onto the Bewilderbeast and would not let go." Mere words like that did little to describe how it had felt, in the moment, but they were all he had. "I do not know why, or how."

"Well, the Bewilderbeast was unable to take us or move its own body right after it took you," Beryl revealed. "I think your 'void' saved us all, in a way. It would have been impossible to do anything with the Bewilderbeast wearing the rest of us down at the same time as fighting us."

"The Bewilderbeast did say as much right before the end." He could recall it loudly thinking to itself, in the last few seconds. But…"

Something new had occurred to him. Something terrible, unlikely, yet not impossible.

"The void is the place that stores forms." He knew nothing more than that about it. "It latched onto the Bewilderbeast, holding it in my mind enough that it could not even try to take over others. It was holding him when he died, presumably."

"Does that count?" Beryl asked skeptically, seeing Ember's line of thought. "I thought it had to be physical contact."

"Well, I can check."

"No!" Beryl's eyes widened. "You'll smash the entire ship apart!"

"I can stop it before I begin to take on that form." He could just reverse it the moment the flames began to appear, signifying that he could take on that form. "If you see fire in a moment, then I have that body."

He knew the Bewilderbeast. That mental image was an easy one to form; he had stood on its back, faced it for a brief moment in Drago's territory, and in general watched it for a while during the battle. His mental image of it was as complete as his mental image of Ryker, or any of the other auxiliary bodies he had possessed.

Take the image; give it to the void. So simple, but he hesitated all the same. This was one body he legitimately did not know how to be rid of, even if it was his. But he had to know.

Nothing. He mentally pushed the image at the void, and got absolutely no response. Another attempt netted the same thing.

"No, I do not have that body." That was a relief. "I might still have the ones I actually took during my time under control."

"We will figure out a way to be rid of those sooner or later," Beryl reassured him. "But that is that."

"One question answered, and a million more never to be resolved." What was more, he didn't want an answer to many of the hypotheticals running through his mind. This ability might be his, but that did not mean he wanted to experiment with it. That felt like another step on a path that eventually led to being another Vithvarandi.

A path he might be sliding down without noticing. He had chosen to come here, had chosen to take bodies in order to bring all of this about. With the support of his friends and family, but all the same. And this was the result. More bodies, ones he could not be rid of because he didn't know how to pull them up.

"Every time I make a small concession, another comes along," he murmured to himself. "I must stop doing that."

"What?" Beryl asked curiously. "All of this worked out well enough. None of it was your fault."

"We schemed to avoid battle but ended up fighting for our lives anyway. I used my abilities against Ryker and compromised, if only a little. And now I must compromise again, simply because there is no way for me to be sure I am not holding additional forms. I need to stop giving in."

"How?" Beryl sounded solemn. "Every time danger strikes, you'll do all you can, because the only other choice is to let people you love die. All you can just means more for you than it does for most of us."

"Yes, but there is a difference." He wished he was not below deck; now was a good time to be looking out at Viggo's island. "I can provoke and trigger wars, assassinate, destroy armies, undermine leadership… that's too much power. From now on, I'm only going to do what one normal dragon and human could do. What I did, killing Ryker specifically for our plan… not going to happen again. If I kill and take bodies by chance, then I'll use them, but specific targeting is crossing the line." He had not determined where the line was before now.

"I'm not going to argue, but I don't see how that helps."

"It might not. But it makes me feel a little safer." Safer, in that he would know where the line was, now. Fighting for his family? Totally acceptable. Destroying regimes through his abilities, killing for the bodies in order to pull off some master plan? Not acceptable at all. It was an odd line, but a line nonetheless, and a simple one at heart.

No taking the bodies of others. Not intentionally, not in premeditated strikes. He needed to think and plan as if it was not an option, to act more like the original Ember or Hiccup would. Whichever was more applicable to the situation. Letting what he was influence his actions was a bad idea.

"So… on to other, happier things," Beryl chirped. "You cannot remember what your body did. The same goes for Storm, Thorn, and Pearl. There is no trauma there."

"This family deserves some relief from that kind of thing," Ember agreed. One bright side in a world that was actually pretty bright right now. They had all made mistakes, but enough had gone right anyway. Nobody was dead, he had not lost something integral to who he was, whether it was one of his two main bodies or his conscience to acting like Vithvarandi… even Second had come out of it all just fine. He would wake up in a few days.

"But there is some trauma," Beryl continued. "We need some time together, as a family, to just relax. How long do you think it will be before you can come up onto deck?"

"For now, just bring everyone down here," Ember requested. "But as for that, I think there is a workaround." He would obey Valka's request for today, if Spark, Herb, Thorn, and everyone else could fit down here. They had a lot of general celebrating to do. Luck had carried them all safely to the other side of this disaster.

O-O-O-O-O

Storm was the first to notice, late in the night. She had slept out on deck beside Pearl, feeling it her place to be sure Pearl was okay. Valka had taken up that same task for Ember, so Storm took Pearl, both because she wanted to and because it let Thorn rest easily. They were the only ones up on deck tonight, aside from Spark, who was circling the ship, on watch. Everybody else was down below, huddled together for warmth. Spring may have barely broken through Winter, but it was still bitingly cold.

What Storm had noticed also made her cold, in a different way. She crept away from Pearl and towards the source of her distress.

Well, confusion, anyway. Distress was too general a word to describe this. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened, but she didn't know how she felt about it.

First, to figure out if she was right. Storm crept up to Second's cage and shifted the heavy covering Valka had put over it.

There was Second. It had been three days, more or less, and the tranquilizer Valka and Beryl had spoken of should have worn off by now.

Second was not moving. Not even breathing. He was dead, and she had noticed the absence of his increasingly loud and erratic breathing.

For a moment, Storm doubted herself. Beryl had said the specific kind of poison used on Second was not fatal, but that it mimicked dying until it had run its course. This might be the last stage of that mimickry.

But… She could not really check Second, not while he was locked in this cage. He looked dead. He smelled faintly dead, just like a fresh body would, something she did not know could be faked.

It could be fake, or it could be real. If it was fake, he was fine. If it was real, there was nothing she could do.

Storm returned to Pearl's side, spread a wing over her to conserve warmth, and let herself go back to sleep, putting the problem off for the rest of the night.

O-O-O-O-O

The next morning, Storm again left Pearl to check Second. He was definitely dead; she could clearly smell it now.

How did she feel about that? Second was an irritant, a link to the past she spurned. She had not cared about him at all, beyond hoping he would leave as soon as he woke. And he had, in a way, though he had never actually awoken from his final sleep.

Herb wandered up onto deck, crouching and preparing to take Spark's place.

"Second is dead," Storm admitted quietly, just loud enough for Herb to hear. "I do not think Beryl was right about what the poison does."

Herb checked for himself, and then went below to tell the others. In moments, everyone, including a No-scaled-not-prey Ember, was up on deck, and Pearl was awake. Even Spark had landed to see what was going on.

Valka was obviously shocked, her eyes wide and startled though nothing startling was happening. She opened the cage and climbed inside, inspecting Second as if on the hunt for a wound or sickness that had escaped her attention.

Eventually, she came away from his body, her face pale. "He did not die of cold; we kept him warm enough. His injuries did not kill him, and there was no infection. He just did not wake up." Beryl relayed her words for her, as she did not have her staff at the moment.

"It had to be the tranquilizer," Beryl realized, his voice small and scared. He looked much younger than he was, hunched inward as he and Valka shared a mutual stare of horror. Ember sat down on a wooden railing, looking pale around the face.

"That was the trick," Valka muttered, leaning against the cage bars, looking at nothing in particular. "It really was poison. He used it on two of his own men, and they thought they would wake. He was going to have us use it on the females if the males could not take them down. He tried to get me to use it on Ember, just in case…"

"And you used it on him," Beryl added, after relaying her words in hushed tones. "He must be dead. Not even his own men knew it was a poison; they would not know to treat him even if there was a way to treat it."

"We can't be sure of that," Valka objected. "Someone he trusted might know. He could still be alive." She looked out at the now distant island. "We need to find out. If he is dead, they'll have noticed, and there will be chaos."

Storm looked over at the island. It did not look chaotic, or at least it looked no more chaotic than it had before. Hard to tell from this far away.

"And that is another thing," Beryl added. "No ships have left the island. We can see the docks; nothing has moved out from there."

So… "Why do we care?" Storm asked, after a moment.

It was Pearl, in a strained and tired voice, who answered her. "Drago is dead. Viggo might be dead. Krogan and Ryker have been dead for a while. The Bewilderbeast and Second are gone. Basically, there are no leaders on that island, just a bunch of followers, and nobody has taken control of anything yet, because they would at least be fixing the ships, right?" she finished tentatively.

"Exactly," Beryl agreed, looking impressed. "And we've been ignoring the other thing that needs to be done. There are hundreds of imprisoned dragons on that island. Are we going to leave them there?"

"Are we going to risk ourselves again by going back?" Thorn quickly countered. "Is it worth that?"

A nasally voice Storm traced back to Ember replied. Beryl nodded in agreement. "Ember is right."

"Would someone please translate?" Storm asked disagreeably. She hated being left out of the conversation.

"You could always learn," Pearl suggested slyly. "Right now, Ember is just reminding Beryl that they are people just like us. We have to help them." She sounded nervous, almost.

Oh, right, that was going to end soon too, in one way or another. "Are you going to ask him now?" Storm asked curiously.

"No, she is not," Thorn answered, looking at them both sternly. "That needs to wait until they are both healed. Stress is not good for healing, and even if there is no stress, they would have to wait to act on it."

Pearl ducked her head, clearly embarrassed. "I hope we would have that problem," she muttered. "I will wait."

While Storm, Pearl, and Thorn had been having their own conversation, the main one had continued without them. Storm turned her attention back to Beryl, hoping to deduce what she had missed.

"Still way too dangerous," Beryl asserted confidently. "Two of you, on an island occupied by people who want you both dead."

Valka shook her head. "They know neither of us," she asserted, spreading her arms. "I do not look like the Collector right now."

That was true. Storm eyed the female No-scaled-not-prey curiously, only now really noticing that her color had changed from black to dark brown. That was an interesting thing No-scaled-not-prey could do, though she understood that their true color did not change underneath the coverings they could switch out.

"And only a few of Drago's men, relatively speaking, ever saw me before," Ember added. Beryl was translating for both him and Valka now. "We'd have to be very unlucky to run into anyone who would recognize either of us."

"Somehow," Herb remarked dryly, "I think you two would manage."

"I resent that," Ember retorted. "Anyway, somebody needs to find out of Viggo still lives, and unless one of you can pass yourselves off as a No-scaled-not-prey, Valka and I are your only options. Two are safer than one. So we both should go."

"How do you plan on getting there?" Beryl asked skeptically. "You're not capable of flying without opening your wounds, Ember. Or fighting, if it comes to that."

Ember laughed at that, though Storm did not know No-scaled-not-prey well enough to know whether it was mocking or just amused in tone. "I was planning on doing things the old-fashioned way, Beryl. You up for a trip down memory lane?"

"The Stormcutter will bring me to the island," Valka immediately supplied. "We have done this kind of thing many times before. WIth the island still in disarray, it will be easy. Nobody will be guarding dragon cages when there are human enemies to worry about."

Beryl sighed mightily. "I suppose I am not talking you out of it, so yes, I'll take you." He held up a paw. "If you promise to be careful."

"Done," Ember agreed, putting his slender paw against Beryl's. "Tonight, when nobody will see you drop us off."

"You truly think you can manage this safely?" Herb asked.

"We can do it," Beryl admitted. "Safely might be a stretch, but the Stormcutter can be watching from above, and I'll shadow them from the rooftops. Nobody will be defending the island from dragon invaders, and most of what they would use to defend with is worthless rubble now anyway."

"Then you should go," Thorn agreed reluctantly. "Tonight. But for right now… we have one more thing to do." She looked to the cage that still contained Second's body.

Everyone fell silent. Storm knew what they were thinking. It was custom for terrible, rotten dragons to be left to rot, when normally the deceased were burned to ash by family and friends. It would be easier to just drop Second's cage into the ocean and let him rot down there, and he probably deserved it, but…

"He did save me, in the end," Ember mused. "From death, apparently."

"He chose not to take advantage of me, though he starved for it," Thorn agreed quietly.

"Or me," Storm was forced to add. "He was punished for that, too."

"He was a horrible person," Pearl said in a low voice, "He ate other dragons, and No-scaled-not-prey. But that wasn't really his choice."

"From what I gathered, none of it was his choice," Ember confirmed, not looking at Pearl. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her. "But he likely does not deserve to be sent to rest honorably."

Storm shook her head and made a decision. "His brother was left to rot, But Second was better than his brother," she announced. "Barely. I will do it, if nobody else will."

"I would help, but I shouldn't," Ember said ruefully. "Beryl, Spark, can you help in my stead?"

"For you, yes," Beryl decided. Spark nodded in agreement.

"That is enough, if the Stormcutter will also help with transport," Storm declared. "We need to bring this somewhere less flammable." She nodded to the cage. "We can take it to a sea stack." They would burn Second's body there, and then leave the ash and bone atop the sea stack, out under the open sky. It was better than he deserved, but he was not around to care anyway.

O-O-O-O-O

That night, Valka had the startling feeling that she was reliving her own past. This feeling, that of flying towards a hostile island on Cloudjumper, planning to sneak around and release dragons, was so familiar. She had missed it these past few months.

But she was also feeling intense regret, because of who was flying alongside her. Ember was riding Beryl, and would be sticking to his human form for the entirety of the mission, as his dragon form should be resting. A neat trick, to be able to just change bodies out whenever he got bored of sitting around and waiting, though she had resolved to be sure he did not prolong his own recovery too much with it; apparently, as one might expect, he needed to be using a body for time to pass with it.

Why did flying alongside her son and grandson make her regret her own choices of years past? Probably because she knew her own choices had stopped this from becoming her everyday life. Hiccup had turned out like her, and maybe if she had been there for him, he would be…

What? A dragon rider, surely, and she was also sure he would still have ended up with Beryl. But maybe he would not have been changed by Vithvarandi, had she been around to interfere in that. Maybe he and Beryl would have only been what they were now, dragon and rider. There was no shame in that; she had as much with Cloudjumper, and it was more than enough.

Maybe she could have had Hiccup as her son in truth. But would he have preferred that outcome, compared to this one? Would Beryl, or Spark, or any of the other Furies Ember had helped, or returned to despite death itself getting in the way? Overall, it was probably better for everyone that she had stayed away.

Maybe regret was too strong a word. Wistfullness for what could have been, maybe. Given a real chance to go back and change things, she would probably just make things worse.

"We are nearing the island," Cloudjumper remarked quietly. "Valka, spend this time with your son wisely. I do not think he will want to come back with us to the nest, so these moments may be fewer than you would like. And I cannot leave the nest for too long; our alpha relies on my help too much." He was just the slightest bit tense.

Valka sighed and ran her free hand over her Stormcutter's scales. She had missed his calm, no-nonsense advice and demeanor. "Worried I'll leave you?"

"Maybe if your past mate was still alive," he admitted. "I am sorry he is not, for your sake, but for mine it is reassuring."

And there was the honesty. Valka had to laugh. "How rude. But I do understand." She might have been tempted to go back to Berk and find out what a dragon-tolerating Stoick was like, but without that pull, Berk was merely a curiosity to maybe be visited one day, not a place she would ever be content to stay.

As for the rest… she had guessed as much herself. Ember and his family had a home to go back to, somewhere, and there was talk between Storm and Pearl of some sort of trip. None of them would want to move to a large, bustling nest, and some of them might have real trouble adjusting to living under a Bewilderbeast alpha, no matter how benevolent. It was best they go to their home, and she to hers. They could visit, in any case. She needed to make sure they would visit, actually…

But that was for later. Right now, she needed to focus on and possibly even enjoy what might be her only dragon-freeing excursion with her son.

The two dragons approached the island from the side, gliding soundlessly in to land on a small cliff overlooking the ocean, the backs of several ruined husks of buildings blocking the view of any unwanted eyes.

Valka slid off of her Stormcutter and landed quietly, looking around to be sure they had not been seen. "You will be ready to pick us up here, or to watch for Beryl taking us out, right?" she confirmed.

"Right," the Stormcutter rumbled agreeably. "This should not be difficult, especially with a dark wing watching over you two. I have left you in far less safe situations before. I will see you later." With that, he dropped off of the cliff and glided away, destined to spend the next few hours circling from above, watching the island.

"So we go for the cages," Ember remarked, drawing a knife from one of the many sheathes cleverly hidden across his leather armor.

"And listen for news of Viggo along the way," Beryl added. "I will be nearby."

"Don't come down from the rooftops unless you absolutely have to," Ember cautioned, absently rubbing Beryl's forehead with his free hand. "I don't want to have to mount another rescue mission on this stupid island. Two was enough."

"Three. Coming for Storm, trying to get us free, and us trying to free you and the females," Beryl recounted idly, looking around for a good place to leap onto a less-demolished rooftop, slinking out into the alleyway like a moving shadow. "There will not be a fourth."

"Be careful," Ember repeated.

"You be careful." Beryl disappeared from sight. "I'm watching over you, remember?"

"Stubborn dragon," Ember chuckled. He and Valka made their way out onto the nearest street, headed for the large mass of cages that Valka was pretty sure was the central storage. It was unlikely that all the dragons on the island were there, but most would be, and as much as she hated to leave any in captivity, it would be suicidally risky to scour the entire island for just a few more dragons, especially after releasing the majority of them.

The streets were, for the most part, abandoned. There was a massive ice spike entombing a nearby part of the island, and it looked like nobody wanted to be in its ominous shadow, at least at the moment. Eventually though, as Valka and Ember skulked closer to the cages, they began to run across small campfires.

This too was familiar to Valka, though she had not done such sneaking in quite so urban an environment before. Nevertheless, she knew eavesdropping on resting dragon hunters. It was a great way of getting information, though the quality varied. She snuck through a ransacked building that appeared to once have been an armory, and without saying anything, Ember went the other way, crossing the street and lurking on the other side of the wide, flickering circle of firelight. Beryl was somewhere around, but Valka did not see him.

The three hunters sitting at the makeshift fire seemed tired. They were talking, but in low and weary voices. One threw a plank onto the fire, and the flames consumed it greedily.

"So, you thinkin' Heliem, Scule, or Trasan?" one asked tentatively. "We gotta pick a side eventually."

"None o' them; let them fight over this heap of junk," another said derisively. "Aside from the dragons, there's nothing of value here, and I'm done fightin' so warlords can profit."

"You're stuck here like the rest of us," the third man observed scornfully. "Scule controls the docks, and Heliem has the few working catapults. Nobody leaves without both of them cooperatin', and they don' cooperate on anything."

"We'll put together a ship from all this junk," the first proposed, hefting another broken plank of wood, "and lower it down one of the cliffs. It's either that, die fighting for scraps, or starve to death here in a few months."

"Aye. Tomorrow." The second hunter leaned back, using his dented and broken shield as a pillow. "I almost miss Viggo. At least with him, we didn't 'ave to worry about food or picking sides. We were already on the best side."

"Best side. Look where that got us," the second scoffed.

Valka had heard enough. She continued on, leaving without any of the three hunters ever knowing she was there, and silently rejoined Ember at the next intersection. They were close, now.

Ember pointed back at the campfire. "So Viggo's down, and there are three new warlords fighting over this place. Did I miss anything?"

"Nothing worth mentioning." Valka crossed her arms. "One has the docks, one has the means to sink any ship that tries to leave. I think it's safe to assume the third has the dragons; they're the only thing of value here." That might make things more difficult, but she didn't think so. They were already close, and the only thing even close to guards they had seen was that improvised campfire, which was not affiliated with any of the three new warlords anyway.

"So we move carefully and quickly," Ember summarized. They moved on, sticking to the shadows.

All was uneventful for the rest of the way to the cage stockpile. Then things got a little more difficult.

Ember leaned out to look around the corner of the building before quickly pulling his head back. "Five armed guards, and probably more on alert nearby. They don't seem to be patrolling the cages, just blocking all the big entrances." This was the third road that should lead where they needed to go that had turned out to be blocked, and Valka saw the pattern just as well as Ember did. It was best to assume all of the streets in would be just as guarded.

"Are there any broken-down buildings along the edge?" she asked. If there were, she and Ember could sneak through them to the field of cages beyond.

"One, yes. Getting to it will be a little tricky." Ember cautiously looked over at the guards again. "Once they turn to look left, run."

"Why would they look left?"

Ember put away the long knife he had been carrying and drew a different one to replace it, holding it by the flat of the blade. "There's a torch over to their left, a few dozen paces away. I'm going to knock it over."

Valka didn't even have time to object; Ember almost casually threw the knife as soon as he finished explaining. There was a thunk, and a few muttered exclamations of surprise, and then suspicion.

Ember quickly and surprisingly silently ran across the cobbled street, and Valka followed. They made it to the front of what appeared to be an armory missing half of its roof well before the guards returned to watching the whole street.

"Won't they notice the knife?" Valka asked worriedly. "We don't want to raise alarms yet."

"I threw it to skim the torch pole; it will have ended up pretty far away from the torch, and after the massive battle that covered this island, a stray knife is no big deal," Ember explained, climbing over a pile of rubble and making his way to the back of the building.

"What if you missed?" That seemed like a reasonable question.

"I don't miss; I'm a Night Fury, remember?" he said seriously. "That's one of the things that transfers over. Aim is not a problem for me."

Sure. That made sense, in a twisted way. Valka followed Ember through the destroyed building, and out into the field of cages. There really weren't any guards in the field itself. They probably could have been dropped off here to start with, but there had been no way to know that would be safe.

Ember looked around at the hundreds of cages, some occupied and some empty. "Well, this brings back memories. Now what? We want to free them all, but somebody is probably going to notice once they start flying away."

"And we want to get out of here before they catch us," Valka agreed. "Beryl?"

There was a low growl from the top of an empty cage nearby, and two green eyes appeared. "Here. I can fly you out when needed."

"Any ideas for what to do before that?" Ember asked hopefully. "I'm thinking we try to pass word to all the dragons, as we unlock their cages, that they shouldn't fly away until we give the signal. That way, we can get all the cages open and send them all off at once."

"Phrase it as a way of ensuring their safety; some might not care about their fellow captives enough to wait if that's the reason you give," Beryl supplied helpfully. "And how will we open the cages?"

Valka brandished the keys Viggo had given her ages ago. "Viggo gave me these. They must work for all cages like the ones we used." That was simple enough.

"And I can pick the locks of the ones they don't work on," Ember supplied. "Beryl, you do the talking."

What followed was a tense hour of negotiation and lock-picking. The keys were almost random in which cages they could open, but Ember made up for that, and Beryl was convincing enough that they only had a few hair-raising incidents in which particularly impatient or selfish dragons flew away without agreeing to wait.

Aside from those incidents, it was actually pretty boring work, and the imprisoned dragons, too grateful to care about the fact that two odd No-scaled-not-prey and a dark wing were setting them free, confirmed that no guards patrolled the field itself at night.

So, she and Ember talked. Little things, jokes, shared memories of Berk. What had and had not changed. Stoick.

That last one hurt, because Valka knew all too well she'd never get to see the changed man Ember described. But at least Stoick had changed. She could all too easily imagine a version of past events in which he had refused to change in spite of all Ember- no, he had been just Hiccup at that point in his life- and his dragon had done.

Talking to Ember made the hours and the hundreds of occupied cages fly by as if they had wings and a desire to flee this place, very much like said occupants. Cloudjumper had been right; she needed to take hold of these moments and use them well, both because they might not be plentiful, and passed so quickly even when she did make full use of them.

"Last one," Ember said quietly, picking a final lock and releasing a small, malnourished Timberjack. "Beryl, ask them to pass word of anyone we might have missed. We will not be able to come back."

"Anyone who cannot escape when word is given, speak now," Beryl translated. "Pass it on."

A small, quiet wave of whispering and low growls swept out over the dark field of cages, but nothing came back in response. Everyone was ready.

"Everyone knows where to go, right?" Ember asked worriedly.

Valka knew the answer to that question. "They'll flee in all directions," she replied. "All have homes to return to, many far from here. The sea stacks might be crowded for the first day, but that is all. Most will make it home safely."

Not all. That was a sad fact of life. But most was far better than none, and all had a chance now.

"Aside from the few who will die getting revenge here," Beryl countered, disapproval tinging his voice. "Pointless, but they will not be swayed."

Valka nodded. "So, time to give the signal?"

"Yup." Ember motioned for Beryl to come down to the ground, and clambered on, before offering a hand to Valka. "Time to go."

Valka climbed on behind him, glad she would only be riding like this for a short flight, and looked out over the massive field of cages. "I killed Viggo," she whispered, "but I didn't do it on purpose. Looking at this… I wish I had." She did not regret that action at all.

"Just be glad it's done with," Ember agreed. "Beryl, whenever you are ready."

In response, Beryl howled his distinctive call, the agreed-upon signal, and hundreds of cage doors slammed open as dragons rushed out and took to the air together. Beryl jumped up and joined the mass exodus, one black dragon among a riot of color only illuminated by the shifting moonlight that made it through the clouds above.

They rose quickly, and Viggo's island soon became a small dot of scattered light and strangely illuminated ice spikes in a sea of black. The dragons, many uttering cries of gratitude or excitement, fled in all directions, flying high and fast into the wide world beyond. Some were smaller than they should be, others injured, and a few likely wouldn't live through the night, but they were all free.

"Stormcutter ahead," Beryl said happily. "No offense Valka, but I prefer carrying one person at a time. Even if he might fall off without the saddle."

"Want to bet?" Ember countered. "Let's see how much effort it takes to get me off your back, once Valka goes back to her dragon."

"Ten seconds," Beryl deadpanned. "You've done no riding for months."

"At least thirty seconds, I think… and yeah, I'm out of practice." Ember shrugged. "We should get back into that, actually. On a regular basis. It's bad for me to be rusty."

The Stormcutter wheeled around in the sky, all four wings flapping mightily, and pulled up under Beryl. "Mine," he said seriously.

"I've got my own; you can have her," Beryl replied, tilting to the right.

Valka knew her cue. She slid off of Beryl and dropped onto the Stormcutter's back and powerful shoulders, easily catching her balance. Beryl sped off and up into the night sky as soon as he was sure she would not require rescuing.

"Follow them from a distance," Valka requested. "We might have to catch-"

"Ember?" the Stormcutter asked, watching the very much separate forms of Beryl and Ember lazily plummeting downward, falling side by side. "I think I am not fast enough for that; Beryl has it."

"Daredevils," Valka agreed, watching Ember grab back on just a little too slowly for her peace of mind. Beryl easily pulled out of the dive, and they were off, rocketing along just above the still ocean's surface. "I didn't…"

"Didn't what?" her friend asked carefully.

"I didn't know," Valka finished. "I spent hours talking to him just now, and I had no idea. It's going to take me fifteen years to get to know him." Fifteen years, to make up for the fifteen she had been absent.

"As long as you do most of that 'getting to know him' where I can keep an eye on you, I am fine with that," the Stormcutter agreed.

"I don't want to overstay my welcome anyway," Valka said, not at all bothered by that requirement. "He has a life, and it doesn't really involve me. If I tried to get to know him all at once, it would just make both of us miserable." She was content to take her time with it.

"How long should we linger here?" her friend asked, changing the subject. "Our tasks are done; the alpha will not be overly harsh, so there is no reason to avoid going back."

Harsh? Oh, right. She had disobeyed him, and that had gotten the Stormcutter caught. It all worked out in the end, though. "A while. I want to be sure Pearl is on the mend." She still did not intend to intervene in that matter, but she was taking a liking to Pearl too, so though her opinion did not matter, she approved anyway. It would be good to be sure Pearl was going to be fine.

That would also give her some more time with Ember and the rest of the Furies, too. And then she could go home, take whatever discipline the alpha would hand out, and bask in the fact that the big three were all gone, now. There would still be trappers and hunters, but not nearly so organized without them.

The future was looking bright enough, if not totally clear. It would never be totally clear, which was good; that would get boring.

O-O-O-O-O

Time passed. Ember was acutely aware of every hour, now. Night or day, lazing around waiting for his body to heal, talking to friends or family, or just plain thinking, he was always aware the time was passing.

And, more to the point, he was also aware that Pearl was recovering. That was great, a very positive thing, but with it came anticipation, a deadline, and a question he still could not solve.

Pearl did not seem to notice that he was avoiding her. Or she just did not want him to feel pressured. If that was her plan, it wasn't working, but the pressure did not come from her. It came from himself, because he should be able to answer what, at the surface, seemed like a simple question. That he could not was frustrating.

He did not consult anyone else on it, either. This was his responsibility, his task, his question. He needed to answer it alone.

Pondering that took up the hours, which turned to days, which in turn began to turn into weeks. Time was running so very, very short.

Eventually, in a moment consisting of half-despair and half-clarity, Ember made a decision, still entirely unsure if it was the right one.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl craned her neck down and to the side, trying to get a good look at her wound. It was in a terrible position for her to see, though anyone who looked at her head only had to glance down to see it. She knew it was a long, diagonal scar going from above her left front leg to just below her neck on the right side of her chest, spanning the entire front of her, a grey gash dividing white, but that was all from descriptions. The ship was floating too high in the water for her to look at her own reflection, and Thorn had not yet granted her permission to fly or even walk around too fast. She had been told that both would be allowed once the wound had closed enough as to not reopen upon strain, but to see the progress... she needed to be able to see it!

Tomorrow, maybe. Today though was the departure of someone else. Two someones.

"I'm not the mother you deserve," Valka said quietly to Ember.

Pearl wasn't sure if they knew she was awake. The ship was quiet, as it was the early morning and no one else was up. She decided to be still and listen. It was their fault if someone overheard. Besides, she wasn't supposed to move.

"You just had some attendance problems, that's all," Ember chuckled. "You should go see Berk. It's really changed. Just don't mention me. I think most of the village likes to forget how I left."

"They'll hear nothing of Night Furies from me." Valka smiled sadly. "And you all should visit the ice nest during the summer. You know, when cold is an exception and something to be enjoyed."

"We will." Ember nodded to the Stormcutter. "Are you two leaving now?"

"I have said my goodbyes to my grandsons and the others," Valka admitted. "They too promised to come in the summer."

"After this whole debacle, I don't think they're going to get permission to go on any long trips alone, so we will all come together," Ember remarked. "Safe travels."

"And to you," Valka responded. "Good luck with the lovely lady there too." She and the Stormcutter were out of hearing range before Ember could respond.

Not that he was spluttering like Pearl would have expected. He looked down, his expression unreadable.

Later that day, Pearl was rudely awoken by Thorn, who licked at her wound. It was a daily routine and one that made Pearl happy, even if it did annoy her. Thorn cared. That was enough, more than enough.

"Good," Thorn mused. "Well, I would say you are good to go." That announcement was made to the whole ship. "It has finally closed all the way, and we have waited a few days just to be sure."

Pearl stood and stretched, noting the tightness in the scales and skin of her chest. "It's stiff."

"That's normal," Beryl remarked. "It feels fine after a while. That stiffness will fade."

Well, he was an expert on scars. She eyed his collection with the eye of one who had experienced something similar. If this was what it took to get a scar, she was fine with just one. They were way too much trouble.

Storm purred excitedly, pawing at Pearl's side. "You should fly around a little, to make sure you are good for the trip."

"Yes..." Pearl hesitated and steeled herself. "But Ember and I should. I need to-"

"Say no more," Storm quickly responded. "I will wait here." She glared at Spark before he could open his mouth. "We will all wait here."

Ember nodded and watched Pearl as she leaped off the ship. The wind felt good, still cool but no longer biting. The sun was out, and Spring was finally beginning to arrive in earnest. It was late, but not forgotten. She felt like that was a good sign. Her wings were stiff from lack of recent use, but her chest did not so much as twinge. She was good to fly.

They flew in silence for a total of thirty seconds, the time it took Pearl to brace herself.

"So?" She asked quietly. "I have to go somewhere now. I'd rather like to know before I leave." She would, of course, love to take Ember along, but if he said no, she wasn't going to have him with her on this trip, so she would not invite him yet. If he said no, she would want time away from him to recover and to reconfigure her mind in accordance with that answer. She would have to live near him, as she did not intend to stray far from Thorn and Storm for a long time to come, not permanently, and it would be best in that case if she could look at Ember without pain in her heart. Time away would help her heal.

"I think I know," he began, not looking at her. "I can't let go. It wouldn't be fair to you. You deserve to be happy."

Her heart shattered, but she did not let the pieces slip away. This was a terrible, terrible blow, but it was not the end of the world. She could and would recover. No matter how bad it felt now.

"I..." She inhaled shakily. "Okay. It's not what I wanted to hear, but okay." She would not make him feel bad about it either. If he really couldn't...

No. She couldn't do it. She turned away and flew back to the ship, trying very hard to put the rejection away, out of her mind. She would survive. It hurt, but she would survive.

She dropped onto the ship only long enough to make eye contact with Thorn and say one thing. "I'll live, and I will come back."

Thorn whined sympathetically. "You will. Go, and may the winds be with you both." She nodded to Storm, who sent a glare in Ember's general direction, though he had not yet returned to the ship, and took off.

"Forget about him for a minute," Storm commanded angrily. "Long enough to point us in the right direction."

Pearl nodded sadly and considered the trip, the time spent as a prisoner, and most importantly the direction they traveled in that time. "This way," she said shakily and turned to face the right way.

The sun mocked her, shining brightly, making the sea glitter like a Light Fury's scales. So much for that good sign. Maybe she would recover, but right now her heart felt like it was still shattered, still broken.

O-O-O-O-O

Ember inhaled shakily, not watching Pearl depart. He had done it, and it was for the best. No matter how much it hurt.

Now, having said no, he resented himself just a little. For taking the right path, even though it did not make him much happier. But what was done was done.

After a few minutes of lingering over the waves, looking down absently, something Pearl had said registered with his mind. He had not really heard her words at the time, but now they rang in his mind.

"I have to go somewhere now. I'd rather like to know before I leave."

She was leaving? Of course, she was leaving, but it had sounded like she would be leaving either way. He had simply passed up the chance to go with her, wherever she was going.

He looked back and saw that there was no white form on the ship's deck, no ruby glitters as the sun caught her scales at the right angle. She had already left.

He made it back to the ship after a while, heart heavy. Thorn had left, gone fishing, and apparently so had Storm, as she was not there.

Beryl nodded significantly at Herb and Spark, and they both flew off too. What was this?

Ember set down with a sigh.

Beryl barked at him. "What did you do?!"

What? "I... told her the truth." He did not want to talk about this. "It was best."

"Fine." Beryl huffed angrily. "As your son, I respect that you think it was best."

Good. He didn't want to argue either. At least Beryl backed him in this.

"As your friend, I think you're being an idiot, because I don't know why." Beryl snarled and advanced. "So you'd better give more of a reason than that!"

Okay, he wanted to know? "I can't let go of Flint! Pearl deserves better than second place in my heart!"

"Can't let go? Or don't feel like you should let go?" Beryl was growling softly now. "You like to do as you think you should, not as you should."

"It hasn't even been a year! I think I'm allowed to still be mourning her!" Beryl's accusations hurt.

"No, it's been almost eleven," Beryl retorted. "Your life solely as Hiccup counts in its entirety, actually, so sixteen! That's enough time to let yourself move on."

"I can't do that." It was a fact. "I can't just forget her!"

"So don't." Beryl began pacing. "This is stupid. You had Spark. He was your son. And then you had me too. Did you forget Spark? Love him any less? There's no set limit on who your heart can hold. You're not even being unfaithful to Flint! She's gone! And don't even try to argue that you don't love Pearl; everyone who spends a day around you two can tell you do, even when you're avoiding her."

"But..." Flint was Beryl's Dam. How could he so easily dismiss her?

"Tell me, did Flint ever tell you to be alone forever if she died?" Beryl laughed scornfully. "No, of course not. And I bet if places were reversed, you'd be yelling at her from beyond death itself to stop acting like an idiot!" He stopped for a moment, glaring at Ember. "Which you definitely are. I can see how you really feel. We all can; it's really obvious."

"I..." What Beryl said about Flint, his hypothetical, rang true. Ember would have wanted her happy if he was the one who had died on that terrible day, and that probably would have involved some other male eventually, if she found one. But it didn't feel right for him to do the same. Why?

The issue was, he didn't know his own motivations. But...

Hadn't there been a brief time when he did? When he heard his own internal monologue?

Beryl was still talking, but Ember tuned him out and focused on the voice he had quieted a while back, the one he knew was not healthy but was true. Bringing it back up was a struggle, but he had to know.

What did it say of all of this?

_'I love Pearl. She is sweet and innocent, but mature in a different way that means nobody who knows her could see her as a child, and is funny in her awkwardness. I loved Flint. She was sharp, kind, and confident. The two can coexist because Flint is gone and I do not have to choose one or the other, but I'm scared of trying again, so I use Flint's memory as an excuse.'_

He inhaled, abruptly aware of his own motivations... and not liking them one bit. Using Flint as an excuse? It was a horrible insult to her to do that.

Now he knew the truth... but was it too late? Had he already lost Pearl? If not... he needed to fix the massive mistake he had just made.

With months of time to think, he had still chosen poorly. That was embarrassing. Ember growled, cutting Beryl off mid-sentence.

"I'm not done," Beryl objected angrily. "My friend is still being an idiot."

"The idiot needs to fix his mistakes, friend, so tell me which way she went," Ember growled back. "And thank you for calling me out. I need to stop making decisions without a second opinion."

"I'm not sure if I want to be the second opinion on my Sire's love life, so find another second opinion for that part," Beryl joked, clearly relieved. He nodded in a certain direction. "That way."

"Thank you, again." Ember paused. "Do you know how long she'll be gone?" He wasn't sure if this was a quick trip or a massive journey.

"Nope. I don't know where she's going either, though I do know they're coming back eventually." Beryl grinned toothlessly. "Should I tell everyone that you've pulled your head out of the sand?"

"Remind me to tell you about the Viking version of that saying," Ember mused, spreading his wings. "I think you'll like it, as it's even more insulting. And yes." With that, he launched into the air, flying full speed in the direction Beryl had indicated.

Why had he not consulted that voice sooner? It was helpful.

_'Because I know, deep down, that it's not a good thing. It was good this time, but I need to not lean on it. Starting as soon as possible.'_

Well, there was his answer. He should get rid of it. Hearing voices wasn't normal, even for him. Besides, he had already learned that he needed to rely on others to help him make decisions, not just himself.

Something inside him made him suspect that in getting rid of the voice, he might also be getting rid of other things. The voice and his ability to hold his flames had come together; they were probably connected somehow.

He did not need to be able to hold his flames out and hit hard. As it was, he did not see himself using that in the future anyway.

But it might be needed to save someone he cared about in the future, even if he could not see such a situation occurring again…

And it might not. He was already horrifically dangerous if the need arose, and he had no choice in that; in fact, he'd be rid of all but the ability to switch between his two bodies if given the chance. This extra power was unnecessary.

That was the right decision. He would get rid of the voice, and if the ability to hold his fires went with it, so be it.

All that took was a mental push, steady and sure. The patch of himself that harbored the voice shrank, forced out of his mind. He did not stop when the voice faded and then disappeared. This patch was not supposed to exist, no matter how benign it had been. It was already encircled, so to speak, for whatever reason, so it was easy to squeeze out of existence entirely, and now he was trying to do exactly that.

It resisted, and then disappeared. Gone. The voice would never return. But at least it had helped him after Beryl had forced him to reconsider the most base assumptions he had been working with.

So what did he know about himself for truth?

He still loved Flint, but that could stay the same. An old love remembered fondly.

He loved Pearl, somehow. It had developed slowly, but it was undeniable. She was younger than him, but not that much younger when it came to dragons and when his own situation was considered, and she loved him back.

Or, she had. He was going to need to make this up to her if she would let him. None of this was assured. He was not blindly optimistic enough to assume she would immediately forget and forgive.

He knew that he had screwed up big time, but at least now he could try and fix that.

**Author's Note: The first part of the conversation between Ember and Beryl between Storm's segments can be attributed to Deadly-Bagel. The questions said reviewer asked about the interactions between what Ember was and the Bewilderbeast needed consideration in-story, and while I had looked into some of them in plotting out the chapter, there was no scene directly addressing them.**

**Also, in case anyone is surprised Valka is so easily departing, albeit with the promise of seeing them again in just a few months (It's the beginning of Spring right now), I'd like to point out that she has a habit of giving up too easily on the ones she should be fighting the hardest for (Hiccup, Stoick, Berk to a lesser extent). Sometimes, character flaws aren't so easily fixed.**

**Plus, I'm totally not done with her character in this universe, or the Bewilderbeast she serves, so I'm not going to wrap up all of her flaws right now. They're too useful as a source of conflict and delaying interactions with the aforementioned characters.**

**However, I can honestly say we're not going to be seeing either Valka or the Bewilderbeast in the next entry to this universe. As for a hint as to where we will be seeing them? I'll make it a somewhat difficult one. Your hint is 'Unheard Whispers.' I'm curious to see if anyone guesses what I mean by that in a week's time.**


	30. Truth

**_Author's Note:_ And now, though I certainly wish I could always write in 10,000+ word chapters, we will be going back to something a bit saner. No more of those for _this_ story. **

They had been flying for a few hours and Pearl didn't feel any better. She stared down at the ocean, trying not to think about Ember, and failing. Had she messed up in some way? Was there something else she could have done to sway him? Or was it really just an internal block he couldn't move past?

Storm huffed, pumping her wings a little faster. "If you want to get back before next Winter, we should go a little faster than this."

"Right. Sorry." Pearl sped up a little.

"I know it is hard," Storm said softly. "Not from experience. At least you found someone at all. But I guess this hurts more than not finding anyone does."

"It definitely does," Pearl agreed.

Storm's ears perked up, but as long as it wasn't some form of danger she was hearing, Pearl didn't care.

Storm glanced back and then barked in surprise. "Did Ember seem convinced when he said no?"

"He didn't sound happy if that's what you mean, but he sounded sure." Pearl sighed. Why was Storm asking that kind of question?

"Well, I do not want to get your hopes up," Storm purred, "but I think he might have realized just how big of an idiot he is."

Pearl's heart leaped back into her chest. "Really?!" She began to turn-

Storm knocked into her, forcing her to keep going straight ahead. "Wait!"

"Why?" She wanted to fly back to him and find out! Maybe she was just setting herself up for another disappointment, but why else would he be following them? Thorn knew she didn't want Ember coming along after he had said no, and Thorn was the only one who knew what Storm and Pearl were going to do, so Ember had no other reason to come after her. None that she could think of, anyway.

"He hurt you," Storm growled, "If he comes in, apologizes, and you forgive immediately, you are a pushover. Make him work for this."

"How?" She didn't dislike that idea.

"Keep flying, and do not look back," Storm instructed quickly. "Fly as fast as you can and as long as you can. Keep him in pursuit for a while."

"I'm not sure if I'm faster than him," Pearl cautioned. She had never had cause to compare their speeds.

"I will run interference," Storm agreed. "He needs to catch you, not me. And if he is not coming to take it all back and beg for forgiveness, I will take a message and catch up to you. So if he keeps chasing you after I get to talk to him, you will know."

It was a good plan, one that ensured she wouldn't make him work only to find out at the end that he had some other reason for following. "Okay."

Storm dropped back, and Pearl began flapping her wings, moving forward faster and faster, quickly reaching the top speed she could maintain for a long period of time. This was going to be a game of endurance at first and agility in the end. She was liking this idea more and more as it sunk in. Storm was right. Ember was going to have to work for even the chance to apologize!

O-O-O-O-O

Ember flew faster, seeing that Storm had peeled off and was rapidly approaching him. Now he really did wonder where Pearl was going that involved Storm, but that was secondary. Right now he wanted to get to Pearl, but she was speeding up and had never looked back. It made sense that Storm was going to come and see what he wanted, but she wasn't the one-

A flash from Storm's direction. Ember pulled back and spread his wings, slowing just enough to avoid the fast bolt of blue fire that hurtled through the air where he would have been. Storm was firing on him! She was using shots that would bruise but not kill, not exactly a comforting reassurance. That would have really hurt.

He dodged another with slightly more room to spare, seeing it coming long before it reached him. Then Storm was within roaring distance. He opened his mouth to roar at her, to demand she stop firing-

"You had better flee if you are not here to apologize!" Storm roared at him, spinning around him with almost no loss in speed. "I will set your tailfin on fire if you do not tell me why you are here!"

"I'm here to apologize!" He hastily confirmed, not wanting to test his half-sister's temper. She might really try to do that.

"And to say yes, you will be with her, if she still wants you?" Storm inquired, her eyes blazing with intensity.

"Of course!" Wasn't that implied in apologizing? He supposed he could be stupid enough to fly all the way out here just to apologize for how he had said it if he had been abrupt or cruel, but that wasn't the case. Luckily. That might have made this impossible.

Then again, Pearl probably hadn't said much about it. Storm was likely assuming the worst of him. Not the first time.

Another loop around him, another blast just barely missing, this time intentionally off-target. "Then see if you can catch her with me on your tail! She is not going to make it easy!"

"I didn't have to race and fight for the chance to say yes last time!" Ember objected.

"Last time you had not hurt her!" Storm snapped at his wings, swooping perilously close. "This is your punishment! You have to earn another chance."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Berate his past self for being a fool, yes, but not argue. He dropped a short distance and put all of his strength into his flight, speeding forward. Time to catch Pearl, once and for all. His own stupidity meant she wouldn't be making it easy.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl did not look back, even now, though her heart was pulling itself back together with every moment Storm did not appear and break her latest hope. Storm was not coming back to her with bad news. That meant the news was good.

She felt lighter, freer now. Impulsively she spun to the side in her flight, sacrificing a second's lead to express her elation.

Because she did want him to catch her in the end. Losing her head start was not an issue. Not being able to see where he was behind her might become one, if he flew quietly enough.

She could make it even harder for him, to see just how persistent he was. That would be fun. She fired a bolt of fire and flew through the flames of the resulting fireball, hiding from view. Now she could look back.

He was closing in on her, though now he could not see her, flying to where she had last been. There was no way he would find her in the endless expanse of the sky.

He closed his eyes. How would that help? Was he giving up?

Then he roared. Again, not helpful, though it was strange pitch she had not heard him hit in any other roar. She flew higher, to watch him from above.

He was still roaring, that same odd pitch. Now he was climbing, facing her.

Wait, how was he doing that? She was camouflaged! She looked back at her wings. Yes, still not visible as anything other than a shimmer in the air that shouldn't be discernable from any great distance.

Looking down, he was still climbing, still moving towards her despite the impossibility of that, and... he had his eyes closed. Storm was following at a distance, seemingly at a loss as to what was going on.

Storm couldn't see her, but Ember could? Without even looking, no less. This was turning into a far less one-sided chase than she had envisioned. Gone was the plan of flying around him and taunting him while not visible. Now she had lost her greatest advantage.

She couldn't hide from Ember. That idea did not scare her as it might have with anyone else, but she felt distinctly disgruntled that he had never told her about it!

They were both high in the sky now, and Pearl stopped climbing. Ember was stronger, and as such could climb faster than her. It was an activity that relied on strength, not speed. They circled, Ember cutting across the middle of the arcs Pearl followed, gaining on her rapidly.

Now it was a matter of pride. Could she avoid him without her camouflage? He was close now, close enough to speak, though he did not.

Pearl felt a flutter of long-dormant instinct. He had to catch her. But she couldn't let herself be caught. This was something their kind did or was supposed to do. She had never seen such a chase at the nest. Maybe it was a long-forgotten tradition? A good one, one that was instinct.

She was having fun, so why not? By the way Ember lunged instead of speaking, he could feel it too. He needed to prove himself capable of catching her before anything more could be done or said.

A sudden drop. He was not roaring anymore, close enough to barely keep track of her shimmering form. She flipped, rolled, and dived, always staying just out of reach.

They flew like that, both straining forward, for some length of time. Was it minutes, or only seconds, time slowed by the exhertion and exhileration? She didn't know. All she knew was that he would not catch-

Another lurch forward, and she felt toothless gums clamp down on her tailfins, fouling her flight. Well, this was ironic. She had done something very similar to him in the game they had all played.

And just like then, the catcher did not let go as they both plummeted.

She spoke. "I think you might need to let go." Calm, collected, despite the fast beating of her heart. He had won, and now the game was over.

She was pretty sure the old, instinctual version of this flight had a different ending, but they were not going to reach that ending. There was some talking to be done, and even if that ended well she really didn't feel in the mood, more playful than longing.

"Okay," Ember said as he let go, and they both pulled out of the free-fall he had sent them into, with plenty of room to spare above the rolling waves.

"Well?" She asked snarkily. "I'm waiting."

"Pearl, I'm so, so sorry," Ember whined sadly. "I thought for so long and so hard, and I still made a bad choice. Can you let me give you another answer, a different one?"

"Why did you come after me?" She wanted to know. If this was just guilt at play, she might have to do what her heart protested, and say no on her own part. "What changed?"

"My stubborn son made me think, and I managed to finally see my own motivations." Ember looked her in the eye. They were flying side by side. "I was scared of getting close and then losing someone else."

"That's just a risk you take," Pearl said quietly. "I feel it too." She just knew that it was a good kind of fear. If one did not fear losing the one they loved, was that really love?

"So... can you forgive me?" Ember asked sincerely. "I'd like to say yes, but if I broke something that can't be brought back... I understand."

Pearl hummed thoughtfully. "I am thinking… we need some time."

"What?"

"I have only known you for a few moon-cycles. How about yes, we can be mates, if we both still want to later? You changed your mind once, and you might again. I'm not going to enter into this just to trap you before the tide turns."

"I see…" He tilted his head. "But I am not going to change my mind again. So we wait?"

"A moon-cycle," she decided. "You have that long. After that, I'm going to take your yes at face value. Until then we are just trying it out." Her tone didn't manage to hold at the neutral sound she wanted by the end, and the purr that escaped her really wasn't controllable. He sounded sure it would not change, but this was a good idea, and she could use the time to get to know him better, in any case.

Ember hummed cheerfully, gliding closer. "I'm happy with this plan."

"You had better be," a third voice remarked. Storm had caught up and was definitely out of breath. "I do not want to do that again."

"It was just a short chase," Ember objected. "And you didn't even follow us up there."

"Still," Storm persisted, "do not do it again."

"I won't," Ember promised, looking directly at Pearl. "I'm going to stop making big decisions without getting someone else's input."

"A good plan," Pearl readily agreed. "Personally, I just check three things in my own head. Do I want to, would my Dam approve, and would Storm do it in my place? If the answers are yes, no, and yes, respectively, I've got a good plan going."

Ember chuckled. "And if they're all yes?"

"I don't know if that could ever happen." Pearl realized that Ember still didn't know where they were going, or what she was doing.

Or anything of her past.

Maybe she should tell him before they got there. Soon. Not yet. Now was not a good time for that.

Storm was not on the same page. "Speaking of which, Ember is coming with us now, right?"

"Of course," Pearl agreed immediately. "I still need to do this, and I don't think he wants to just go back and wait a few moon-cycles for us to get back."

"Moon-cycles? Where are we going?" Ember asked the obvious question.

Storm laughed hollowly, looking almost uncomfortable. "Oh, Pearl has a dragon to kill."

That was not how she would have put it. Pearl glared at Storm, noting with resignation that Ember was staring at her in disbelief. "It's not that simple, and I might not kill him. I still don't know what would work best."

"Maybe if you maimed him," Storm mused. Now she was trying to upset Ember, who was looking from Storm to Pearl and back again, utterly out of the loop. "Cut off certain parts."

Pearl only considered that cruel and somewhat appropriate idea for a moment. She was not sure if Storm was serious, and she definitely wasn't sure if she could bring herself...

Memories flashed through her mind.

No, she could definitely find the motivation to be as cruel as she wanted with Claw. He deserved the worst Storm could come up with. But he was not the only thing she needed to fix. He would be in the way, an obstacle that would probably need to be killed, but her main goal was still to fix her pack's way of life, if at all possible. Thorn had cautioned her that it might not be, but Storm had a plan for that. Even if Storm's plan was terrible, it was still a plan, but one she did not want to use.

It was all on her. She needed to figure out a way to show the pack the error of their ways.

"Pearl?" Ember's voice brought her back to the present. "I feel like I don't know enough to understand this."

"No, you don't," she sighed. "I'll tell you later. Right now is not a good time." She wanted to savor the unexpected joy in her heart where before had resided only pain, not think about past pains and future uncertainty.

"So what is now time for?" Ember asked, sounding genuinely curious. The underlying question. What happened now?

Well, she knew what generally happened, but that could wait. "Now we travel and don't waste any more energy on games. There's a long path ahead of us."

Storm huffed, sounding put-upon. "And should I make myself scarce when we stop for the night?"

"That shouldn't be necessary just yet," Pearl hastily replied. "Some other night, maybe." She was glad to see that Ember didn't look like he would argue. They could afford to go slowly if she wanted, though she wasn't sure if she would want to wait or not. It depended on how Ember took her explanation. They were trying out the idea of being mates, and she did want to try that part out too, sooner or later. If the mood was right.

O-O-O-O-O

Some things could wait, but Pearl wanted to get her history out into the open with her new mate now so that she could be totally honest about other things, like what they were going to do, and where they were going. So, when they reached a large peninsula with heavy forests, the edge of an island so big the other end could not be seen, and set down for the night on the beach, she steeled herself to tell the story one more time.

Ember was standing across from her, waiting patiently. Storm was off to the side, absently pawing at the base of a tree, doing her best to remain unobtrusive while also offering support with her presence.

That was something Pearl had never thought to find. A true friend, someone with a totally different personality and life who for some reason seemed to enjoy her company. A sister in heart if not blood or even exact type of dragon. It was a warm thought that did help with this confession.

No, it was not a confession. That implied that she had done something wrong. Thorn and Storm had made sure she knew she was blameless in all of that, so she would not call it a confession.

But she hadn't told him. She hadn't wanted to be pitied. Maybe she should tell him that first. Yes, that was a good idea.

"I don't want your pity," she began and then winced. That had sounded harsh. "No, that came out wrong. You can pity me," what was she saying?! "No, not that either!"

Storm sighed. "Pearl does not want you to see her as someone who is powerless now, though she was in the past."

Ember blinked. "Okay..." He nodded at Pearl. "I will pity who you were, and support you as an equal now?" It was a question. Was that what she was trying to request?

That worked. Pearl relaxed somewhat. "Yes, that's perfect." She cast an appreciative purr in Storm's direction. Bluntness seemed to be best in this kind of situation.

"But I will pity your past self?" Ember asked sadly. "I am realizing I know nothing of your life before all of this. I should have asked."

"I would not have given you a true answer," Pearl admitted. "I didn't want you to know. Storm only knows because I said something that she wouldn't let go without an explanation." She was glad that had happened now. It had been the first and biggest step in gaining Storm's acceptance.

"And you want me to know now?" Ember concluded.

"You must, as we are going to confront it, in many ways." Pearl inhaled. Deep breaths. Concise and to the point. "My pack has many... twisted... customs." That was a good start.

Ember nodded understandingly. "The same could be said of Thorn and Herb's pack. Do you know that story?"

"Yes, Thorn told me." She couldn't get sidetracked. "It is custom for us to have an alpha."

"As most packs do." Ember was beginning to look uncomfortable. He was probably picking up on Pearl's reluctance to speak.

"There are normal mated pairs, though they are few and far between," Pearl blurted out, "but the alpha takes all of the females who remain unmated a season-cycle after they reach adulthood."

That got a scowl. "Takes. What does that entail?"

"They are his, and he can have eggs with any of them, or all of them as he chooses," Pearl growled softly. "Most are fine with that."

"But... that wouldn't work?" Ember sounded confused. "Won't there be a lot of unmated males who had their prospective females taken because they didn't move fast enough? Most dragons aren't that mature mentally until a few years after reaching adulthood. There would be a lot of broken pairs."

Pearl laughed bitterly. "It is also custom that upon reaching adulthood, each male either challenges the alpha for his position or swears to follow and never fight him. None survive the challenge, and those who remain are few, cowardly or spineless."

A truly angry growl rose from Ember as he responded to that. "So the pack is mostly female, and the alpha keeps his position for life, challenged only by the young, small, and inexperienced." Then he warbled cautiously. "What happens to the eggs of the alpha with those many females? Who raises them?"

"The females," Pearl responded, unsure of where Ember was going with that. "Why?" She had been raised basically by her Dam alone, given how little her Sire was around. Not having a Sire to help out was not ideal, but it worked.

"And when they reach adulthood?" Ember sounded worried. "What then? Does the alpha kill his own sons? Take his own daughters?"

Pearl froze. How had she never thought of that? She cast her mind back, trying to identify who, if any, of her year had been Claw's offspring. Granite, if she recalled correctly. Lily? Those two for sure. But...

"He killed Granite," Pearl spoke quietly. "And Lily will not find a mate. There are no unmated males. Gold was captured when I was, and he was the only one available." Surely Claw wouldn't...

"So she will be alone?" Ember warbled hopefully. "Surely the alpha would not... just take her too?" That was deeply wrong.

But so was violating a fledgling not quite mature yet, not to mention one who did not even want him in any way, one forced to approach him by her Dam. "I fear he would. It is not beyond his vileness to do so."

How had she never asked these questions? They simply hadn't come up. Really, Claw might have already begun adding his own daughters to his circle of females, and she would not know. It was hard to keep track, as her Dam kept her occupied and away from the other fledglings, considering them a bad influence.

She didn't know. It was possible Claw was already doing exactly that.

"I don't know," Pearl repeated in a horrified voice. "I really don't know if he does that."

"The alpha, what is his name?" Ember was snarling, and so was Storm. Their grating voices echoed around the beach.

"Claw." Pearl found herself snarling too. "He needs to go." That had been true before and was even truer now.

"So that is what we are doing, and where we are going," Ember guessed. "You want Claw gone and your pack fixed."

"Ideally, if they can change." The beach grew quiet, snarls tapering off. "If not, then we have... other plans." Let Storm explain that later on. It was her idea.

"Okay." A soft purr. "It is a good goal. Is that all you have to tell me?" Trepidation and gentleness underlaid the question. Ember was probably already guessing some of Pearl's history, but he would not force her to speak.

She was grateful, but if she had gone this far it would be best to finish explaining. "Claw has a history of doing things that are twisted and wrong," she admitted quietly. "Not the same as what you bring up, but just as bad."

The implication was clear. "What?" Ember asked.

"Pearl's Dam is a twisted monster," Storm helpfully provided. "And her Sire wasn't around much. So..."

"So," Pearl continued, thankful Storm had given her a way to start, "she wanted me to be Claw's favorite. Her methods involved Claw, before I was entirely mature, and were not kind." Really, her Dam was just as guilty as Claw in that instance.

Ember nodded slowly, his eyes pained in sympathy. "Claw knew what she wanted? Your Dam."

"Probably." Pearl shuddered. "He didn't seem surprised."

"So this is what you did not want me to pity," Ember mused. "I take it you ended up one of his after that."

"For a while. Then I was captured, fleeing Gold." She felt lighter, if not apprehensive as to how Ember would take that.

"Did you give Claw an egg?" Ember continued after a moment in a sad voice. "If so, we need to take them in."

Pearl blinked, shocked. "No, I never did, but you would do that if I had?" That was Ember's first thought when finding out that his new mate had been the mate of a monster, if not of her own will? To take in any hatchling created in that bad situation?

"Storm would kill me if I did not think that," Ember remarked wryly. "Any hatchling from that would have been yours. That is enough for me. I have good role models," he purred.

"Correct," Storm agreed. "I would kill you for considering any other option."

"But no, that didn't happen. I don't know why, he tried often enough, but nothing ever came of it." Pearl was thankful for that, but now it was a slightly depressing thought. She did kind of want children at some point, if not right now. Hopefully, things would work out. "That's all."

Ember walked forward. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. It doesn't change anything here, now."

"No," Pearl happily agreed, "it doesn't, but you deserved to know."

"Well, you know my past," Ember said. "There's not much I haven't told you of."

"There is something, though." Pearl was happy to move the conversation in a different direction now. "You can see me when I camouflage!" She batted at him with her paw. "You never said anything about that little trick!"

"No, I can't. I can use sound to figure it out." Ember turned out to face the sea and roared in that same strange pitch as before. "It returns to me and draws outlines in my mind. I don't see you so much as know where you are."

Pearl tried to emulate the sound, but all she got was a high-pitched roar that hurt her throat. "Hard," she coughed.

"It takes practice." Ember purred. "I can teach you both."

"Given we're going to a nest full of dragons who will think themselves untouchable when camouflaged, I would hope so," Storm growled. "This is a huge advantage."

"You speak as if we'll be fighting the whole pack," Ember noted.

"We might be if this does not work." Pearl didn't want to, but there was a chance of that.

"What is the plan anyway?" That was Storm. "If you still do not have one, now is the time to tell us that so we can come up with one."

"There's not so much a plan as a few things that need to happen, and some conditions attached." Pearl looked down at the sand, idly drawing lines with her tail. She was worried by some of those conditions.

"First," she said quietly, "I need to challenge Claw for the position of alpha."

"I thought you said females weren't allowed to do that," Storm objected. "What makes you think he'll even accept the challenge instead of laughing it off?"

"I plan on him not accepting," Pearl agreed. "And then I will need to fight him and win anyway. That probably means killing him."

"Can you do that?" Ember chuffed, sounding worried. "I don't know how much you know of fighting."

"I was hoping Storm would teach me. And you too, now." That was going to be important. She had to learn, and she had to learn well.

"Of course, but couldn't I just-?" Ember began. Storm cut him off with a bark.

"No. Pearl deserves revenge, and aside from that, she wants to convince the pack that they are wrong. You are a male. They would just assume you are the new alpha and ignore your protests. They cannot ignore a female taking him down, and they cannot make her alpha either. Their customs have no way to handle that."

"Exactly. After I kill Claw," and saying it like that made it sound so easy, "I'll give a speech, and hopefully they'll listen." That would involve more planning, to come up with a convincing argument that voiced all of her many objections to how things worked, but at least she could do that.

"Let us assume they do." Storm purred. "Then you give your so-called Dam a piece of your mind?"

Yes, she would have to do that, wouldn't she? Hopefully, that conversation would be made easier by killing Claw first. "In either case, I'll do that." Even if she was ignored and her attempts to change the pack failed. There were things she wanted to say. Her Dam was an open wound that needed closing, after all of this time.

Her Sire, on the other paw, didn't factor into this at all. He was spineless, and he knew it. What more could she say? He was never there, which she resented, but that was also his only fault. She could quite easily forget him, if not forgive.

"Then we will leave," Storm finished. "If we convinced them to change then all is good, and I can come back in a dozen season-cycles or so to find a mate. Beryl and Spark can come too."

Well, that was certainly optimistic. Pearl laughed at that idea. "Sure, that should work. Honestly, if it doesn't work out, Beryl and Spark can go there anyway... and never leave, because the females won't let them go." Two strong, confident males among the mostly female pack of Light Furies, who without Claw wouldn't have any strong leader to stop them. There would be fighting among all of the ones Claw had kept as his own, fighting over the two eligible males. Whether Beryl or Spark would find anyone they liked among those females, so many of whom were shallow and petty, was another question.

"Not without supervision if there is no alpha," Ember rumbled. "I would rather not find out they were convinced to take up the tradition Claw runs now."

"They wouldn't do that," Pearl objected. "They might be immature sometimes, but you taught them better than that!"

"I don't know," Ember mused teasingly. "You managed to change my mind. Who knows how convincing the other Light Furies can be?"

Storm snorted. "And that is my cue to leave you two alone." She jumped into the air and flew off.

"Eh, she'll be back sooner or later," Ember remarked, watching his half-sister leave. "She still doesn't know where you're taking us."

"That's the only thing stopping her from flying ahead out of impatience," Pearl agreed. "Though I don't know what she sees herself doing. Most of this is my responsibility."

"I know what I see myself doing," Ember noted wryly. "Hiding, probably in my No-scaled-not-prey form. I'd rather not be swarmed." He shifted and went to stand behind a tree, demonstrating how easy it was to hide like that. "Small, discrete, and ready to jump out and interfere if things go wrong."

"Good, that's helpful." She would not mind that at all. She stared as Ember stepped out from behind the tree. Really, his No-scaled-not-prey form was small even by their standards.

"What are you thinking?" Ember asked curiously.

"I'm thinking that I love you," she replied honestly. "but No-scaled-not-prey really aren't my type."

"Good," Ember agreed, shifting back as he spoke, though his voice changed over rather abruptly, as did the language he used. "The way all of this works, when I'm in that body, dragons aren't my type either. I'd rather not go there anyway."

Pearl shuddered. "No." She didn't want to think about that. Ember's real body, the Night Fury, on the other hand...

No, she still wasn't in the mood, and they were going to take things slowly. But she did want to do something less intimate. "Can we go flying?"

Ember rumbled pleasantly. "Like earlier today?"

"But with a less difficult chase and a more pleasant end," Pearl specified. "A moonlit flight."

"Sure." Ember leaped into the sky. "Just to be safe, let's go the opposite direction Storm went."

"Agreed." With that Pearl joined him in the air, and they flew towards the moon, gaining height. She managed to put thoughts of Claw, her imminent challenges, and all else out of her mind. Now was not a time for that. Tomorrow and the rest of the journey would be time for planning, fretting, learning to fight.

Now was the time to make some good memories.

Ironic, that the No-scaled-not-prey who captured her ended up bringing all of this about. They made a decision for her, just like everyone else in her life had up until that point, but that decision had gotten her free... and Gold killed, not to mention actually dooming the ones making the decision in the process. It was a choice that only benefitted Pearl, though that was not their intention.

Still, while she wasn't thankful to them, she was happy it had happened.

Ember leveled out and she flew beside him, admiring the night sky. There was no need to hide up here.

No bad memories up here, either. She was going to go back and settle the scores anyway. Those memories would never be added to.


	31. Circle

They were getting close now, after many weeks of travel, several full moon-cycles. Pearl was starting to recognize the area. Another full day's flight, maybe. That made her anxious.

But she had a good way of relieving anxiety. Several, actually. As Storm was around at the moment, Pearl settled for pouncing on Ember when his back was turned.

Both Furies had taught her about fighting, and she welcomed any chance to practice. To the point, actually, where Storm had told her to calm down, and Ember had refused to continue practicing with her at such a pace.

They had a point, but she needed to be as good as possible. This could not be left to chance.

Ember rolled and kicked her off, sending her tumbling, but she knew how to handle that. A wing flapped at the right moment, a pivot on her paws, and she was charging him again, far faster than she should have been able to slow down, stop, get up, and turn to face him. Speed was important.

A tailfin to the face stunned her, but she lashed out, biting with her toothless gums, carefully doing nothing more than crimping the membranes. In a real fight, Ember would have just lost his ability to fly, his tail torn to shreds.

In a real fight, Ember would never risk his tailfins, but that was because he had a history of dealing out tailfin injuries himself. Claw would not have that instinctive restriction on his own actions.

As per their rules, Ember would not use his tail for the rest of this play-fight, to emulate it being disabled by Pearl's successful bite and tear. He held it up in the air, fins folded in. Then he pounced, pinning her.

She battered at his head with the leading edges of her wings, making him close his eyes momentarily. That was a reflex, one she enjoyed abusing. When he wasn't looking she built up a small blast.

His eyes opened and widened, but she had locked her paws around and onto his, holding him in place on top of her. He couldn't jump away.

She let the blast die away. "Is a full-force shot to the throat enough to kill?"

"Definitely, at that range." Ember nodded. "Close your eyes before you do though."

"Why? Seeing Claw's head blown off would be therapeutic, I think." Pearl purred, still not letting go.

"I'm thinking more of you being blinded by the blast two feet from your face, or by the blood," Ember corrected. "Point-blank shots are risky." He looked down, still held in place by Pearl's paws and legs. "And as much as I don't mind this-"

Storm barked in disgust. "Do I need to leave?"

"No, we only do that in the air," Pearl breezily corrected her honorary sister, enjoying the look of utter disgust that comment elicited. She had finally found something that Storm did not like to hear about. It was fun to play off of that dislike.

"I did not need to know that," Storm muttered crossly. "You know I did not need to know that."

"Which is why she taunts you with it," Ember remarked. He stepped off of Pearl as she released him. "It's rare to find something that gets to you."

"Do not make me fight you," Storm growled at Ember.

"I'll fight you," Pearl offered.

"Not you, you would enjoy it." Storm shook her head. "I am starting to wonder if it was a good idea to teach you."

"It will keep her safe," Ember objected seriously. "And it is good that she enjoys the challenge."

It was far more than that. Pearl liked that it was practical, that she could defend herself. She liked not being powerless to anyone bigger and stronger than her. The bonuses of feeling light and fast while matching wits as well as technique with a friendly opponent was a big plus, but those were secondary, the same feelings chasing Ember or being chased by Ember brought about. Very different endings though, despite the similarities. Her verbal jab at Storm was not an exaggeration. They always took to the sky when the mood struck. Ember didn't mind, and Pearl preferred it that way.

But now was not the time for that. She needed to stay focused. They were getting close. She hadn't yet told Storm more than that. Ember, in private moments, listened to her worries calmly, taking them in and acknowledging that things might not go well. That was more comforting that Pearl would have ever guessed.

She was glad he had never shown any sign of regretting his choice. Their trial period was long over; they were truly mates now. The trip had given them plenty of time to be sure in that choice, though looking back Pearl was embarassed about how little they had really known of each other before beginning their little trial period. Acting as mates had shown her much of him that she hadn't expected, if all good or neutral, and she was sure he could say the same.

But just as that trial had ended, this trip would also soon be ending. They had been traveling over coastline for several days, and Pearl knew they were getting close because she could see a mountain in the distance. Her pack lived in a rocky valley between three separate mountains, close enough to the sea to live off of it, but with a mountain between them and anything outside. The woods that spread out from the bases of the other two mountains were calm and mostly lifeless, nothing large enough to be interesting. The Light Furies rarely went there simply because there was nothing to see or do there.

The location, now that she thought about it, had a lot to do with how insulated the pack was from the outside world. There was no reason to journey this far for others, and no reason to leave for the Light Furies.

They spent the rest of the day reaching that mountain in the distance, and once close enough to recognize its particular pattern of crags and ledges, Pearl affirmed for the others that they were there. The pack was on the other side.

That night was spent quietly on a ledge low down on the mountain, hidden from sight. Storm was silent, watching the sky. Pearl had told her there was very little chance anyone would fly over, but she watched nonetheless.

Pearl and Ember lay next to each other. In a fit of playfulness, Pearl worked her head under Ember's paw and draped a wing over him, as she had accidentally done in her sleep moon-cycles before. Now she felt no embarrassment and chuffed quietly at Ember's purring.

"Tomorrow, I deal with my past," Pearl sighed. "It will be good to have this over with, no matter how it ends."

"Yes," Ember bent down and licked the top of her head, shifting his paw to do so. "And I will be there to ensure that you will see the day after and many days beyond that."

"As will I." Storm shifted her position, still not looking anywhere but up at the stars. "How do you think they will take a dark wing showing up?"

"A female? Not that big a deal. The mated pairs will welcome you, the alpha's circle won't care, and Claw will..." Really, she didn't know how Claw would react. "You should probably avoid Claw."

"I plan to, given that if I see him I will have to resist stealing your kill," Storm agreed darkly, her tail twitching angrily.

"I should hitch a ride to the outskirts and sneak in." Ember sounded resigned. "I'd rather not be mobbed, or get Claw's attention."

"Are you sure you can do that?" There were a lot of Light Furies around the valley. That would work if Ember came through the shaded part, but any other approach would be dangerous.

Wait, she'd be carrying him in. She could just drop him off there. That was fine. No need to mention it.

"I'm good at sneaking around." Ember sounded confident. "Just be sure to challenge Claw publicly, so I can see it."

"I don't know if I want you interfering in that." She was confident now that she had a good chance, but if things went bad...

"Maybe a signal? So you can tell me if it's time to get involved." He licked the top of her head again. "By the way, you taste like salt."

Storm gagged, literally spitting up half a fish. "Stop it before I lose the rest of my last meal."

They both ignored her. "Hmm..." It was a good suggestion. "How about if I roar your name?"

Ember didn't answer for a moment. "I was thinking something a little more discrete, but that works." He hummed in amusement. "If it gets to that point they'll be learning my name imminently anyway."

"If it gets to that point I can say goodbye to any chance of being listened to. It'll be you or nothing." She would have been saved from Claw by Ember. That went directly against the whole point she was going to try to make, and supported the custom that only males could challenge at all. She couldn't reinforce any of their customs right before trying to tear the whole system down.

"Your confidence in me is comforting," was his dry response.

"You know it probably has to come from me," Pearl complained. "I'm someone they know and not an outsider. You'll just be dismissed as 'not getting it' or some other stupid excuse."

"And you'll tell them." Ember sounded sure. Pearl wished she could be so sure.

"What if they don't listen?" A quiet, worried croon escaped her.

"That won't be your fault." A statement of fact.

That did make her feel a little better. She closed her eyes, hoping to get some sleep, but knowing she'd probably be unable to so much as doze.

Ember began humming, his chest and throat vibrating softly. It was a soothing sound, as it told her he was there.

No matter what happened, she would have him. Even if he had to interfere and was promptly mobbed by every available female, she knew he wouldn't so much as think about leaving her. It had taken months of work to get him to so much as consider her. No one would be able to undo that in a day, if ever.

Well, maybe one person would have had a chance, but she was gone, and Pearl liked to think that Flint would have approved.

At some point, Pearl drifted off to sleep, despite her worries. They had been driven from her mind by Ember's soothing hum.

O-O-O-O-O

Some time later, Pearl woke, unsure at first why. It was still very much night, and-

Oh, that was why. She knew what Ember's groaning and twitching meant. He was having a nightmare.

The worst part of knowing why was inwardly debating whether or not she should wake him. It wasn't an easy question. If this was a specific kind of nightmare, he might prefer it play itself out, no matter how bad, but she herself would rather he not suffer through it.

Then Ember jerked back, falling to the side as he woke on his own, quite abruptly opening his eyes. His breathing gradually slowed.

Pearl looked to the side, and saw that Storm was still asleep. Good. Storm didn't know about this, and she didn't need to know, either. "Another one?" Pearl whispered.

Ember's eyes were narrow and pained. "Yes."

"Anybody new this time?" Pearl asked, secretly hoping the answer was no. She would like to be able to just comfort Ember and lull him back to sleep.

"Yes."

So much for that. "Do you want to do it now?"

"Will your pack hear us?" He shook his head. "I don't want to mess things up there. We can wait until…"

"Now," Pearl finished. "They won't hear anything; we're literally a mountain away from them." She resigned herself to a disturbing midnight activity and worked her way out from under and over Ember, quietly so as to avoid waking Storm.

Ember also moved quietly, and soon enough they were flying out into the night sky, parallel to the beach. They didn't set down until they were a good few minutes out; far enough that if someone did hear them, any investigation would pass right by Storm and the ledge she was on.

Ember didn't waste any time once he landed. He immediately burst into blue flames, casting shadows across the moonlit beach. Once the flames receded, they revealed…

Another No-scaled-not-prey hunter, one of Viggo's. There was nothing special about him. Pearl had never seen him before.

She immediately blasted him out of existence, somewhat numb to the inate horror of 'killing' him after doing this at least once a week for the last few moon-cycles. This would never become normal, but it was fast becoming routine.

Ember shuddered, coming back as his Night Fury self. "I hate doing that," he muttered sadly. "I get a little glimpse of their memories no matter how fast you are. He was utterly terrified."

Pearl nuzzled him tenderly, not needing any explanation. She knew what that meant.

Ember had killed under the Bewilderbeast's thrall, but he could not remember that time in the slightest, at least consciously. So, as it apparently took knowing the body to call it up, he couldn't shift to the forms of those he had taken to be rid of them…

Unless a nightmare showed him who he had killed, revealing the sights he had seen but not really remembered. Pearl didn't know why that happened, but it clearly did- Ember had nightmares at least three times a week, and some of them were of things that could only have happened while he was under control, if they happened at all. And when he saw a new face in those nightmares, one he had killed with his claws or teeth on that terrible day, he remembered it after the dream was over.

Neither of them knew how many more there would be. Pearl didn't even know if the nightmares would stop once Ember had relived every second of the hours he spent enthralled. She hoped they would; her own had a moon-cycle ago.

But she would not complain if Ember needed her help in literally blasting the past back to where it should be for the rest of his life. It was his burden; she was happy he trusted her so much as to let her kill him, over and over again, without being somehow affected by it.

Ember leaned into her, almost falling on her. "I'm still tired," he rumbled. "Carry me back?"

Pearl tried to gauge whether he was serious or not. "You're still a dragon; shift if you want a ride."

He shrugged his wings, leaping into the air. "I can fly on my own."

She had guessed he was kidding; he sometimes tried to lighten the mood after one of these little excursions. It never worked, even if she played along. They both knew this would, ironically enough given what triggered it, feel like nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

Pearl followed her mate back to the ledge, and tried to reclaim the peace she had found that evening in falling asleep the first time. As always now, she easily found it again, though this time she felt like the one holding Ember, not the other way around.

O-O-O-O-O

Spring was in full swing, and this day promised to be a rainy one. Given what she was going to do, Pearl didn't mind that at all. Let the skies look ominous and foreboding. They were meant for Claw, not her. Let the sky foretell his fall!

And on a more practical side, a darker day meant Ember could sneak around easier. She let him on her back in his No-scaled-not-prey form, and they were off, Storm leading the way, and Pearl following at a few minutes' remove.

It was a simple strategy. Let Storm go in, garner the attention, and keep all eyes on her. Meanwhile, Pearl could drop Ember off, and walk among the Light Furies. She would be noticed, and she would head straight to Claw.

The valley had not changed, and neither had its inhabitants. That was clear from where Pearl circled above, waiting, indistinct against the dark clouds. She could even see Claw, surveying it all from his plateau.

Storm went in, and the Light Furies gravitated towards her as if she had a pull on them. She walked among them, presumably being somewhat pleasant. It would not do to tip their hand too early.

Pearl swooped into the darker side of the valley, though today there was no difference. She and Ember split up there, with Ember skulking on the outskirts.

She would take a moment to compose herself. Then she would go out there.

O-O-O-O-O

Storm hated these dragons almost as soon as they opened their mouths, in most cases. She could not help but judge everything they said to her.

"So beautiful!" One female gushed as if it was the only thing that mattered. So? She was not some airhead, only to be valued for how she looked.

"Oh, she will not find anyone here," another female remarked to a friend. "She might as well not have come." Well, that one was true, but they assumed she was here for that.

"What is she?" That was... a fledgling, a young female with a pale blue tint, who pawed in Storm's general direction.

Storm stopped and leaned down to the little fledgling's level. "I am a dark wing. Like your kind, but a bit different. We have different colors." And a few other things, but that was the only simple difference.

"Can I be a dark wing?" The fledgling asked innocently. Storm didn't have the heart to say no straight out.

"Maybe if you rolled in the mud," she joked, her voice light. "But you have such a nice color already." The little fledgling scampered off after chirping happily.

"She here for Claw?" A male asked, sounding scornful. "She will have to fight off his circle for him."

"I would watch that," another agreed. "So hopefully she is."

"I have no interest in any of you," Storm said to both of them. "Least of all your alpha." That could not be truer. The only interests she had in Claw involved violence bordering or downright crossing the line towards torture. Pearl had vetoed those, sadly.

"Then why are you here?" Another female asked, shooting one of the males a glare. She was likely his mate, given how things worked around here.

"Same reason they are," Storm nodded towards the idiot males. "To watch a show. It should be starting soon." She would say no more about that, at least nothing more specific. "I would advise you all pay attention when it does."

"I am paying attention," a new voice added. This one was male too. Was she attracting every single male in the pack? One would think they wouldn't be interested, already being in such high demand. She turned to face the newcomer with a disinterested glare.

He had a green tint and a confident stride.

Oh great. Would Pearl be mad? She hadn't tried to seek Claw out, but he had found her almost immediately.

"I am Claw," he said leisurely. "This is my pack."

"So it is," Storm nodded absently, focusing most of her willpower on not tearing his innards out. Now she was regretting imagining in such great detail how to kill this particular dragon. She couldn't stop from considering which ways would be both the easiest and most painful from this angle. This was Pearl's kill, and there was no way Storm was stealing that payback from her honorary sister... but it was hard to hold to that.

Claw saw something of Storm's internal struggle... and misinterpreted it. He purred smugly. "I guess males are as scarce out there as they are here."

"Yes, they are, though out there it is scarce for my kind in general." She would not break, would not attack...

"I can help you with that," he offered. "Give you an egg to take with you when you leave. If you come with me, I am sure we can find one lying around." A suggestive tone of voice.

Hold... Hold... She gritted her very much present teeth. "I will have to decline that invitation." And everyone said she couldn't control what she said! This moment would be her proof for the rest of her life. If she could just not kill him until Pearl got here.

"Why else would you be here?" He sounded genuinely confused. "Come on, I can help."

"You would like that." A strange calm came over Storm, and she knew her control was slipping. It was not a matter of it it would fail, but when. Seeing this dragon, knowing what he was capable of, what he liked to do, and hearing him so blatantly proposition her was going to make her break her own internal resolution. Her stubbornness warred with her temper, and they balanced perfectly for a moment. When that moment broke, so would Storm. And when she broke, there wouldn't be enough left of Claw to identify the body.

"And so would you. I am told I am very good at... finding eggs." Claw took a step too close.

She counted the silver flecks in his eyes and idly wondered if they could be torn out. They were small, but if she held him down and began digging...

Her claws slid out...

She should find out. The balance was failing, her rage overcoming her stubbornness...

"Claw." A cold voice, one that broke Storm's building rage. Storm internally sighed in relief.

Pearl was here. Just in time. Storm really didn't want to be known as the dragon who took apart another's eye while they were still living, no matter how deserving the test subject might have been.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl walked out from what on sunny days was the shaded side of the valley, out from between the many boulders, and into her past. Faces she knew, voices she remembered. Had it been six moon-cycles? More or less. It felt like a single day.

But she was different. Stronger, confident, happy. There was nothing more that could hurt her here.

"Pearl?" A voice called out, sounding legitimately unsure. "Is that you?"

She turned to face the dragon who had spoken, recognizing her as Amber, an acquaintance. "Do you know many other Light Furies with ruby eyes and glint?"

"I do not, but... it has been a while." Amber seemed uncomfortable. "Where were you?"

"Elsewhere," Pearl responded enigmatically. "I would say it's nice to be back, but it's not." With that, she kept moving.

Whispers began to follow her. She knew what they would say, and she did not bother listening. That she was back, speculation on where she had been, speculation on her and Gold. The pack would know the truth soon enough, and she did not have the patience to correct them on a dragon-by-dragon level. She was already beginning to understand Ember's frustration with explaining his existence to new people, a reason he had given her when she asked why he did not mind living mostly isolated, save for family. Explaining oneself became tiring far too quickly when the same questions and reactions were always repeated.

Then someone she could not ignore stepped in front of her, looking displeased and horrified in equal measures. Her Dam. She had wanted to save that conversation for after.

"Pearl!" Her Dam almost shrieked. "What happened to your chest?! It is scarred!"

Of course, that was her first concern. Not that Pearl had been injured, just that it had marred her appearance.

Pearl warbled innocently. "Oh, that? I might have gotten overconfident in trying to kill a twisted alpha. I'll do better this time." With that, she pushed past her Dam, ignoring the spluttering accusations and questions. "We'll talk later" was the only other thing she said.

There was Claw, speaking... to Storm. Oh, that was perfect. Pearl sped up, hoping Storm could pull up some supernatural self-control.

That hope turned to surprise when she caught the tail-end of Claw's insinuations. How had Claw survived saying that? Maybe Storm had some self-control after all.

Best to not tempt fate. "Claw." She stood there, waiting for him to turn.

After a moment he did. He hummed happily when he saw her. "Pearl! I knew you would be back eventually."

"Really?" That was sarcastic. "I don't know what I would come back here for."

Claw hesitated before replying, slightly taken aback. "Gold is no prize."

"No," she agreed neutrally. "But then again, I did not leave for him so much as I got kidnapped fleeing from him."

"Kidnapped?" Claw purred. "And you finally found your way back. I welcome you home." There was lust in his voice. "Come along and let me welcome you more personally." And that was not a request.

"No." She unsheathed her teeth. "I challenge you, Claw."

Silence descended gradually, as gossiping dragons realized that their neighbors had stopped talking and got the message, quieting down to watch.

Then laughter broke out. Claw purred lazily, looking around. "I believe you may be a bit confused. Wrestling is not a challenge."

He would call it that. Wrestling was a good term, as it implied pinning the other by force. "No, but doing my level best to separate your head from your body is."

"Did she hit her head out there?" Claw asked the crowd around them, sounding slightly less amused. "You cannot challenge. You are a female."

"I challenge regardless." She crouched. "Fight me or die where you stand. It will not be quick if you choose the latter."

"I would rather not," Claw remarked. "You are better-"

That was one slur too many. Pearl shrieked and pounced, tearing at him. Even now, she remembered all she had been taught, though rage sharpened her reflexes. This was the first measure of Claw as a fighter. How did he respond to a frantic, thoughtless assault?

Of course, he tried to get around her flashing claws and pin her. She had known he had a one-track mind, but this was a bit ridiculous. One would think that track would shift a little when the object of his attention was trying to kill him. She kept him at bay, growling and slashing efficiently, wasting no movement.

He stalked around her, and she turned to follow him.

"If you insist, I will show you the error of your thinking," he sighed as if regretting the necessity. "Gold was a bad influence."

"Gold is dead," Pearl spat. "And he was no influence on me. That coward would never think to face you!"

"Then where have you been?" Claw sounded mildly curious. "I will have to find out later."

Pearl snarled wordlessly. She very deliberately stopped slashing as Claw approached. He took the bait.

Idiot.

She rushed him, lowering her head and bulling into him with a shoulder, knocking him off-balance. He was heavier than Ember, but it was the weight of sloth, not of muscle.

He tried to push her down, but couldn't get to a point where that was possible.

Then she hit a rock, with him between her and it. The air wheezed out of him in a satisfyingly strangled bark of pain.

Keeping in close quarters was not something she wanted to do, so she jumped back, the damage done.

Here was where any fair fighter would let their opponent recover. But since when had Claw been fair? She would do him no favors. A cut to the side and a painful blast to the face were what she managed before he lashed out and forced her back.

It was hard to get the measure of a fighter who thought to play with her, but now the condescending attitude was gone. Claw coughed, glaring murderously.

No words. Not needed now. She grinned toothily. Then the fight began in earnest.

Claw, she quickly determined, was not that good. It was odd, but then again fighting inexperienced fledglings probably wasn't much practice. He threw his weight around, clawed, bit, and that was it. There was no clever use of leverage, no use of his tail or wings at all. She had, it seemed, overprepared.

So, she indulged a little revenge. Vicious cuts began to proliferate on his hips, his stomach, his chest. The places that hurt most when one had to keep moving. Then she moved on to bruising, slamming the bone edge of her wings into his sides and his ribs. Again, she paid special attention to the lower torso, though that took some doing. All while avoiding more than a few minor cuts.

Claw began wincing at each new blow. The point at which he realized she was dragging it out was marked by a pained bark and a look of utter disbelief. He backed up, hunched over slightly.

She had managed to slam a wing edge onto a very personal place at an opportune moment. That was a very good feeling for her. For him... not so much. She could hear his pained whine if she listened closely.

They parted for a moment. Pearl laughed angrily. "A season-cycle of humiliation and pain, and more before that. Shall I make this last a season-cycle too?"

Claw stared at her as if he believed her threat serious. "No!" It was a bark of fear.

"Hmm..." Pearl mused, walking closer and enjoying the flinch that elicited. Let him feel that too. The apprehension, knowing he couldn't stop her.

She was only enjoying this because it was Claw. To do this to anyone else would sicken her. He was only learning, in a more concentrated fashion, what he had done to her, did to any of the females he took who did not want him.

She glanced around, wondering how many happy faces she'd see.

Shock. Sadness. Disgust. Pity. Horror, on the fledglings. That wasn't what she wanted to see. There was glee and approval on Storm's face, but no one seemed to share that opinion. To them, she looked like a monster.

It hurt, and changed her plans rather abruptly. Killing Claw would not get them to listen to her. It would just prove to them that she was a monster.

Could she live with letting him live?

Yes, as long as he never touched a fledgling, one of his own blood, or any unwilling female again. As long as he held no power, no influence. But if she let him live and failed in her bid to change minds, he would remain on the top.

Could she live with herself if that happened?

She would have to, because killing him would mean sacrificing everything else she hoped to achieve. Better a chance of success than none. This risk was not the end of the world either.

She advanced on him, pinned him to the ground, and snarled in his face. Then she spoke, her voice low and dangerous. "I want you to never touch a fledgling again."

Claw stared at her stubbornly. He said nothing.

She knew she would get no vow from him, and his word meant nothing anyway. That had been a mistake. It had told him she meant to let him live. Now he had nothing worse to fear than more of what she had already done.

Or so he thought. There was one punishment that Pearl felt appropriate.

"For violating a fledgling, I sentence you to temporary grounding." Before anyone could object she lunged at Claw's unguarded tail and bit, tearing and shredding. Claw's howls and thrashing were secondary to her work. It was sickening, but she removed every bit of tailfin from one side, tossing the bloody scraps to the ground, before leaping away, just barely avoiding receiving more grievous wounds than a few cuts dealt by his mindless struggling.

Claw whimpered, licking at his bloody tail. He did not look up, creeping away as soon as Pearl turned away from him.

She was done with him. She faced the horrified audience that had gathered, staring defiantly. Now was the time to speak, to convince. Her job was not going to be easy. They regarded her with anything from fear to horror. That didn't make it any less worth trying.

"His tailfin will grow back." She announced that to the crowd. It was important that they knew she had not crippled him for life.

No response. They were all definitely paying attention, but no one wanted to call attention to themselves. They were scared of her.

"Does no one care?" Pearl asked this neutrally, masking her disgust. "Claw has been accused of something fundamentally wrong, and no one thinks to ask if it really happened?"

An uneasy shuffling of feet. Some of them definitely suspected Pearl had told nothing but the truth.

Others, it seemed, were not as aware. "You just said that to justify hurting him." It was a confident voice, hidden in the small crowd.

"I could more than justify killing him for everything else he does," Pearl snarled. "That was just one specific set of incidents I chose to address."

"Who said he did?" Another, different voice asked. "Give us a witness."

"A witness? You're speaking to the witness," Pearl growled. "I know for fact what he did. I can never forget it."

"You were one of his circle," someone scoffed. "Not a fledgling."

"Before that." She was growing tired of obtuse stubbornness. "Before the ceremony. Several times."

"How do we know you are telling the truth?" A male, this time. It sounded like a genuine question, not one asked out of spite or misplaced loyalty.

"Aside from any other proof, I experienced many things out in the world," Pearl began. "One such encounter involved hurting a mind-reading dragon with that specific memory. In the process, I accidentally shared it with several other dragons under his control. They can vouch for what they saw, what they felt." She didn't want to pull that up, as it was so nebulous as proof, but it was proof. "Aside from that, I'm sure you can ask around. Others have seen Claw disappearing into the shaded part of the valley with a fledgling, whether or not it was me." There were too many dragons in the pack, and Claw too obvious, for no one to have seen.

"But no one saw it happen," another dragon said, sounding satisfied. "You have no real proof."

"No," Pearl admitted. "If you will not take my word and the words of others outside of the pack, then I have no proof. I don't care. As long as enough of you remain aware of the possibility and interfere if he ever tries again." She had already punished him. It didn't matter so much whether the entire pack believed his guilt. It would make things easier, to be sure, but it was not necessary.

"You attacked the alpha." That was an accusation, emboldened by Pearl's lack of success with her accusation against Claw. "That is against custom."

"I defeated the alpha in a challenge," Pearl corrected. "Quite thoroughly. He is no alpha now."

"Females cannot challenge, and it is supposed to be to the death anyway. He is still alpha." That was her own Sire. She felt only a slight twinge of betrayal. He never supported her before so why would he now?

"This whole system is wrong, and you should see that by now!" Pearl was keeping a lid on her temper. If Storm, of all people, could do it, then so could she. "There is something wrong with having an alpha who routinely kills pack members. Who takes most of the females regardless of their wishes. Tell me, why is that a good thing?"

"It is the way we live," a voice answered calmly. "It is custom."

"I can speak for the rest of the world," Storm intervened, her voice acid, "in saying your customs are horrible."

"Who cares about the rest of the world? We prosper here, so there is no reason to change." A confident assertion of what the speaker saw as fact.

Pearl couldn't help but see the nodding, agreeing Light Furies. There were so many of them, more than two-thirds of the pack. Claw's females, mated pairs, older fledglings. She saw male fledgling who would die to Claw in less than two season-cycles agreeing!

This wasn't going to work. She had heard Thorn's cautions, had heard that many people would not change willingly, but she had not thought it of her own pack. They saw this as good... and now they saw her as an outsider, a threat. There was no way she could convince them. Storm and Ember would fare no better.

She had failed.

But... it was not the end of the world. Not even the last plan. Plans B and C were looking much less likely to work now though, and plan D still felt cruel to the parents.

"Hypothetically, if a male from outside came here and challenged Claw, killing him-" she began, only to be cut off by an uproar of outrage.

"Cannot do that!"

"Outsider as alpha? Not happening!"

"Against all custom..."

"We would drive him out and pick one of our own!"

And there went plan B. Pearl went ahead and discarded plan C, which worked along a similar approach. For the moment, she was done with this. There were other things she wanted to do here, and as long as she wasn't being openly attacked for her views or treatment of Claw, they could be done.

"Rest assured," Pearl scowled, her voice dripping with scorn, "no male from outside would want this pack. No male with any set of morals." Ember would, simply to change it, but that wasn't going to happen. He would be under attack until they drove him out, or until he killed everyone involved.

She roared, regathering the attention of the pack. "I am not staying, so you may also rest assured that your lives will go back to normal soon. Attack me and get what Claw got. I have some goodbyes to say, as I did not get a chance last time." That was straight-up manipulative, given her 'goodbye' to her Dam was going to be nothing of the sort.

With that, much of the crowd dispersed. The alpha's females went first, to find Claw. The rest of them dispersed among the rocks, not looking in Pearl's direction.

Storm approached Pearl. "I told you. There are no good people here." She sounded sad.

"They are good people... just blind ones too." She had to believe that. "I don't think any outsider can change them, and I'm an outsider now. I shouldn't have gone after Claw first."

"As if he would have let you do anything except be 'welcomed back'. You had no choice there." Storm purred. "And what a glorious revenge that was! Well done."

"I should have just killed him," Pearl muttered. "It didn't end up changing anything. If anything, my sparing him made it even less likely they'd listen." That had not been what she expected.

"So now..?" Storm glanced around. "I would rather not hang around these idiots."

"Just mingle for a while." Pearl needed Storm around. "Make sure some of the alpha's females are going to watch him from now on. We have to stop any other fledglings from following my path."

"That I can do," Storm growled. "On it." She disappeared after Claw's circle, who had crowded around him on the plateau.

How many of them genuinely liked him? It seemed far more than she had thought. They were not all there, but a lot of them were, supposedly tending to his wounds. It sickened Pearl slightly.

Then she saw a fledgling loitering at the base of the plateau, looking up. She was young, no more than three or four moon-cycles old, just old enough to be wandering on her own. So small that she could still be carried by her scruff, almost still small enough to be carried in one's mouth, like a newly hatched dragon or an egg.

Something about her demeanor pulled at Pearl as being familiar. Was she one of Claw's daughters, waiting for her Dam up above? No, she would not be hesitating if she was.

Familiar. Why did this fledgling pull at her?

She found herself approaching the little one, still pondering it. The little female hadn't seen her yet, staring up at the plateau timidly.

"Hi." Pearl greeted her with a light voice. "Who are you?"

The fledgling turned and jumped in surprise. "You?!"

"Don't be scared," Pearl whined. She felt horrible about the fledglings seeing her attack on Claw, but there had been no way to prevent that.

"I not," the little one responded petulantly. "Dam say you bad."

"He bad," Pearl parroted back, indicating the group of females, and the one within. "I just punished him for being bad."

"Dam does that," the fledgling admitted. "I bad a lot."

"All fledglings are," Pearl laughed, but something about the way the little one had said that didn't sit right. "How are you bad?"

"I get into fights. Dam say not make myself..." She squinted, shaking her little head. "Big word. I not remember."

Now that feeling was really bothering Pearl. "What are you doing here?" She indicated the plateau. "Is your Dam up there?"

"No. I go up there. But they say go away." The fledgling sighed. "Say too young. But Dam want me go help Claw."

Pearl felt like she had been dropped in the ocean. The freezing, storm-tossed ocean. She could hardly breathe.

The fledgling had sky-blue eyes, and curiously enough lacked any more than the slightest glint, that silver. Pearl inhaled shakily, smelling her.

Family. The fledgling was family, very close family. The same Sire and Dam. This was a little sister. Her little sister.

"What's your name?" Pearl asked shakily.

"Silva." The fledgling growled, a tiny sound to match her size. "Dam say Silver a boy's name, so she change it a little. Silva."

"Do you have a big sister?" She already knew the answer, but what did Silva know? What had she been told?

"Pearl. Dam say she run away." Silva shrugged. "She bad."

"Does... does Dam say you need to be calm?" The first half of the first lesson.

"Yes. And en... enticing." Silva struggled with that word. "All the time."

A flash of red-hot rage. Pearl thought of Storm's words. If it saved one fledgling from what Pearl herself had gone through, it was a fair trade.

"Silva?" Pearl asked carefully, "do you want to do something fun?"

"Dam says-" Silva began, looking up at the plateau.

"Dam can go tend to Claw herself," Pearl growled. Then she let her voice soften again. "Do you know the shaded part of the valley?" Saying that felt very, very wrong, but she was not sending her little sister there for Claw. She was not her Dam.

"Yes. It scary there," Silva shivered. "Dark."

"Not today," Pearl gently pointed out, looking up at the sky to draw Silva's attention to the clouds blocking the sun, and by extension shading the entire valley. They she looked back down at Silva. "Today, there's a funny little animal hiding there."

"Animal?" Silva stared up at Pearl quizzically. "What kind? A fish?"

"No, he's a new animal and a very nice one." Pearl purred. "Go find him, tell him Pearl sent you, and that Pearl said to play with you until she comes to get you."

"And he will play with me?" Silva bounced excitedly. "Fun!"

"Be nice," Pearl cautioned. "He's easy to hurt. But he's very fun." She warbled softly. "Remember, tell him Pearl sent you. You might need to say it to get him to show himself."

"You Pearl?" The fledgling put two and two together. "You bad?"

"No, I'm good. And you're good." Pearl nudged her little sister in the direction of what was normally the shaded area. "Go have fun."

"Okay!" Silva bumbled off, still not entirely steady on her feet.

Pearl watched her go, her heart a tumultuous mix of emotions. The prominent ones at the moment were relief and rage. Relief, because Ember would keep Silva safe and away from the Light Furies until Pearl showed up... and explained that they were taking her with them.

Rage, because her Dam was doing it again. Another daughter, and the exact same lessons, the same tactics. The same result in a few season-cycles, if Pearl had not returned to interfere, to take Silva away from here.

More relief, because Storm had convinced her to come back. If she had turned her back on this place permanently, the sister she never would have known would have suffered the consequences.

What in the world was going through her Dam's mind? Pearl found herself snarling inwardly as she made her way to the mediocre rock her Dam always complained about. It was time to get some answers.

**_Author's Note:_ ** **So, is anyone surprised that Claw lives, still alpha, and the pack doesn't seem in any mood to change? Not every plan succeeds… but this might not be Pearl's war to wage. I will say no more at this time.**


	32. Request

Storm inwardly seethed as she made her way around the plateau. Only Pearl's request stopped her from leaving in utter disgust. Pearl had wanted her to find some of the females of Claw's pack, less idiotic ones, and make sure they would be on guard. Claw could not be allowed near any fledgling ever again. He was a terrible menace that really needed to die.

She was of half a mind to go up to the plateau and kill Claw here and now. Only her other plan stopped her, as it was unlikely she would survive doing so in the middle of a group of Light Furies attached to the disgusting monster. She needed to remain alive in order to do anything more about this ridiculous pack, and if Claw died some other, probably equally perverted idiot would just take his place.

A Light Fury stuck a wing in front of Storm, blocking her path. Really? Storm felt her frustration bubbling to the surface, and prepared to lash out-

"Can I talk to you?" The voice was quiet and nervous. Female, not that old, though definitely an adult.

Storm turned and looked at the narrow corridor formed by two adjacent boulders, and the Light Fury standing there. There was a look of desperation on her face that melted Storm's anger away. "Yes. What is it?"

"Come in here," the Light Fury requested, backing up slightly. Storm followed her, disappearing into the natural alleyway.

"You are not from here," the Light Fury asserted.

"No kidding," Storm deadpanned.

"You are here with Pearl." It was a guess, if a sure one.

"Yes." She saw no reason to deny that now. "So?"

"My name is Crystal. I was a friend of hers." Crystal hesitated. "You will be leaving?"

"As soon as I can manage," Storm muttered. "This place is not for me. I have a home to get back to anyway." She didn't want to stay here, if it could be avoided.

"Can..." a shudder, and a soft whine. "Can you take... can you take my children with you?" Before Storm could say anything, Crystal broke, whining even as she begged. "My son is only a hatchling, and I already have another egg waiting to hatch. I cannot watch him die, and even if the egg is female her fate will be no better."

Something clicked in Storm's mind. "You are one of Claw's." She said it without scorn, for it was clear that had not been this dragon's choice. "Come with us yourself."

"I cannot," Crystal admitted with another whine. "This is my home, and this is my pack. I do not want to leave. But I do not want my children here either."

"Why not leave?!" Storm was getting annoyed. "You are saving these two, but what about the next egg? And the one after that? This is just stalling! And I am not coming back here every half a season-cycle to pick up more hatchlings." That was a straight-up lie, given that might be exactly what she was going to do, but she wanted this well-meaning idiot to get the idea.

"I am not having more eggs," and at that Crystal growled, "and I am going to change this place. I cannot do that if I leave. There are a few others of Claw's females who are with me. Pearl said what we have been thinking ever since she disappeared... and ever since the first of Claw's daughters was added right back into the circle. I might miss my children's lives, but at least I will make it so that no one else does."

Storm was silent for a moment. "So I take your children, and your group works from the inside, slowly breaking down the idiotic customs that you all follow?"

"Every single one, save for the basic ones that are as much instinct as custom. Like, 'do not mate with your own offspring.' Claw is violating that. We will leave him up as a figurehead until everything else is falling down around him. He is easy to manipulate." She warbled in embarrassment. "Lily's words, not mine. She is the brain of the group."

And, if Storm recalled correctly, one of Claw's children. One of those who definitely shouldn't be in his circle. Lily had as much personal reason as Pearl did to want Claw dead, but she was going to leave him as a target, as the one obviously responsible for all that went wrong. It was a very, very good plan. One that Storm's own plan would interfere with. Giving the pack an outsider enemy would reinforce customs.

"I will take them with me," Storm agreed. "They will be raised in a good, loving home. I promise you that." Her own plan was no longer an option, but this could be done. Two children could be saved. She could not very well shirk that task when she had been planning to take far more than two. Time to put her actions where her mouth was. "And you have to swear to me that Claw will never touch another fledgling. Your group has to stop that."

"We were already going to and have been." Crystal sighed. "Pearl's Dam has another daughter, and this time we are doing more than just saying 'go away' to the helpless victim when she is sent around to get Claw's attention. This time we are in a position to do more. Actually, you should take Silva too. That is her name."

Storm laughed softly. "Pearl will take care of that, I am sure. If she somehow does not find out then I will." Then she backed out of the alley. "Take me to the children."

Crystal took flight, and Storm followed, heading to the far side of the valley to a sheer rock wall with two cave openings, one large and one small. Storm trailed after Crystal as they set down and entered the large one.

It was a sprawling complex, with many side-caverns. Dark, but that was no detriment to Furies.

"We group up to raise fledglings," Crystal explained. "My group has someone who really is attracted to Claw, but Lily is there too. She should be back here. We always leave someone behind to watch the little ones, and she volunteered today."

They took a few turns and entered a smaller cave. Storm saw another Light Fury with light grey eyes curled around an egg. There were two tiny hatchlings sleeping curled up against her side.

Lily started, growling at Storm. "What is this?"

"A friend getting my children out of here," Crystal answered. "Pearl is back, but she is not staying. Lily, she is so different!" That was said admiringly.

"In what way?" Lily warbled suspiciously.

"She beat the dragon dung out of Claw and had fun doing it," Storm supplied. "He is still alive, but he will be stuck on the ground for a season-cycle or so."

Lily considered that. "Humiliated, but still in control by popular demand?" Her voice was sarcastic.

"Exactly," Crystal agreed. "She and Storm are friends, and they are leaving soon. Storm has agreed to take my children with her."

"Are you sure she's trustworthy?" Lily asked suspiciously.

"I swear to personally ensure both of Crystal's children live full and happy, healthy lives." Storm bowed her head, meeting Lily's eyes, as well as Crystal's, alternating between them. "I will treat them as my own, but I will also bring them back one day to meet their true Dam, and they will not live in ignorance of her existence. This I also swear." She had not expected to have to prove her trustworthiness; her plan had involved theft, not willing Dams parting with their children. But if she was going to do this, she was going to do it right.

"I… yes, please," Crystal agreed happily. "I trust you."

Storm didn't know why Crystal trusted her, but she wasn't about to question it. Whether or not Crystal had an actual reason, she was right to trust.

"And I cannot find any stronger proof of your intentions," Lily agreed after a moment, looking slightly less suspicious. "You will hold to your word."

"Yes." Storm knew she would have to, but it was the only way she had been able to come up with to appease the suspicion she had not been expecting to have to deal with. "Is Crystal the only one with children who need to be saved?"

"No, but the others would not consider this possibility," Lily readily replied, sounding sure.

"They are optimistic." Crystal shrugged. "I spend way too much time with you to be so sure we can do this in five season-cycles."

"It will take much time," Lily agreed. "I don't dispute your assessment of the situation."

"Do you have any children you want me to take?" Storm asked hesitantly.

Lily laughed sourly. "My Sire might be corrupt and perverted beyond reason, but I am not. I think I'll never be able to have children after what I did, but that was the intention."

"Never?" Storm whined sadly. "I am sorry." That was a huge sacrifice.

"My children are here. This entire pack acts like a bunch of particularly dense fledglings, so it is an apt metaphor." Lily shrugged. "Crystal made her choice, and I made mine. We all do what we must." She unwound herself from the egg. "Do you have a mate out there?"

Storm laughed ruefully. "Still looking. We are rare out there. This is the largest group of us I have ever seen in one place, regardless of specific type. Pearl does though."

"She does?" Crystal barked in shock. "Really? Is he good to her?"

"Very. They make me sick." Storm shook her head. "She chose well, once she was given a choice."

"She deserves to be happy," Lily noted. "None of her season-cycle knew what Claw was doing to her until Crystal told us. Not that there was anything a few fledglings could do. Now we have some small measure of power and leverage."

"You will end all of this," Storm asserted. "You seem smart enough to do it."

"If only to spite my Sire, yes." Lily purred evilly. "Watching his little empire fall around him while he is blamed for it will be an apt punishment. What Pearl did is good, but I will destroy that which he built, and not just his pride."

"He built this system?" Storm had never wondered how such ridiculous customs fell into place.

"We came here, according to a friend who was there, because we were tired of wandering. The system of the alpha mating with multiple females was decided upon as a temporary emergency measure to increase our numbers. Claw inherited the title and disposed of the 'temporary' part, slowly adding customs as necessary as the older generation faded away, dying of age. This is all his work." Lily snorted. "And he will live to see it die. Then we can kill him."

"A more thorough way of destroying someone than I could ever implement," Storm agreed with a small measure of awe. "I wish you luck."

"You are aiding us by helping Crystal. That is worth more than luck. If this depended on luck, then I would give up now. Claw is a lucky one. I'll destroy him with planning and strategy. He never really understood that, save for when his interests were involved." Lily nodded to the egg. "This is Crystal's."

"And so is he." Crystal picked up one of the sleeping fledglings gently, holding him in her toothless mouth. "Will you and Pearl be able to take them both and Silva?"

"You're taking Silva? Good." Lily growled. "Pearl's Dam is a problem. She is influential and besotted with Claw, for whatever reason."

"There are three of us. Me, Pearl, and Ember. It will not be a problem. Follow me, and I will take you to... the ledge we rested on last night." She gently picked up the egg. It was heavy, if small. The feeling of cradling new life in her jaws was very humbling. Responsibility settled upon her shoulders like a weight. But she would carry it.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl seethed, approaching her Dam's sunbathing rock. Finding out she had a little sister was nice. Finding out that little sister was being raised in the exact same horrible way was not nice at all. There were things that needed to be said. She was finding emulating Storm, harsh and blunt, very easy today. This entire place got under her skin. It was helpful, really, in making sure she did not falter or doubt herself. Every other thing reinforced her righteous fury.

There was her Dam, pacing angrily and growling at her Sire. He was around for once, how nice. Rare, but nice. If he ever did anything. He was not going to be a problem.

So, she dealt with him first. "Sire, go away. It's not like you ever do anything anyway, and I need to speak to my so-called Dam." Channeling Storm came easily. She only needed to recall Storm haranguing Second and then Silva's face. An example, and more motivation than she'd ever need. Angry over how she herself was treated? Yes. Angry over how her little sister was being treated? No, because there was no word strong enough to express her outrage. Anger was far too mild an expression to possibly describe how she felt.

Her Sire's jaw dropped... and then he flew away without another word. After seeing her humiliate Claw, that was no surprise. The coward feared anyone stronger than him, which was almost everyone.

Her Dam was made of sterner stuff. She whirled and snarled. "You."

"What, no welcome home?" Pearl stalked forward. "I survived worse than you can imagine, and now I'm back. Gold died without a moment's notice, his throat cut by a monster. I would have been next if it weren't for pure luck."

"After all of my work, you ran off with him!" Her Dam was screeching, beside herself. "You had it all!"

"I ran from Gold, actually. But Claw was no better." Pearl laughed scornfully. "I quite enjoyed beating the dragon dung out of-"

A slap to the face, her Dam's tail flashing out and back. Pearl looked at her Dam calmly. "Is that supposed to hurt?" It did sting, but that wasn't the point. "Or is it supposed to make me stop talking? Sorry, you'll have to try harder than that."

A single instant of shock. Then the rage was back. "You hurt Claw for no reason!"

"Sure, right, because I definitely didn't give a very good reason immediately afterward," Pearl drawled. "Were you still watching, or did your attention leave when Claw did?"

"What happened to you out there? You have disregarded-"

"Everything you taught me." Pearl laughed in her Dam's face. "As for what happened to me? A lot of things." She would be no more specific... yet.

"You are no daughter of mine," her Dam growled. "My daughter is demure, calm, and Claw's favorite. She died when you disappeared."

"Correct," Pearl agreed. "You have no daughter. I made sure of that." Let her Dam interpret that as she would. Later, when Silva could not be found, her Dam would hear the other message hidden in that statement.

"Leave." Her Dam snarled. "I have no desire to ever see you again."

"No, not yet." Pearl grew serious again. "Now you get to explain exactly what's going through your warped mind."

"Warped?" Her Dam barked in shock. "What is warped about wanting my daughters to have the best possible mate?!"

"What is..." Pearl growled, cutting herself off. "What is warped, you ask, about sending a fledgling to a monster so that she can be violated, all in the name of making sure she ends up with that same monster for life?" Was her Dam delusional?

"He is strong and in charge," her Dam countered blithely. "The other males are weak and spineless. Who cares if he gets you a little early? It all turns out the same anyway."

"You're sick," Pearl roared angrily. "Sick in the head! In the rest of the world, Claw would be driven out! He would be torn apart! You're acting as if it's normal!"

"Of course it is not normal, but he is the best option," her Dam argued back. "And he does not even look at me, so you were the next option."

"So you think you can just live out your little fantasies through your daughters?" Pearl asked, disgusted. "Why not just dump Sire and throw yourself at Claw? I'm sure he'd take you in without a second thought."

"I tried," her Dam snarled. "He rejected me!"

"That's a first." She almost didn't believe that. Since when had Claw rejected any female within his grasp?

"I turned him down before he became alpha," her Dam admitted. "He holds a grudge."

"But not against your daughter, who he happily violates and takes for himself, with your approval." Now she understood. It did not make her feel any better. "That will not happen again."

"Go away, Pearl." Her Dam was glaring. "I disown you."

"Too late. I've already disowned you. Moon-cycles ago, when people who actually cared helped me see the whole truth."

"So leave." She turned her back on Pearl.

Pearl did so, her mind already moving to another thought. She shouldn't have driven her Sire off. There was one last thing she needed to do.

Luckily, he had just flown to another rock nearby, clearly watching the confrontation. The most interest he had shown in Pearl since... ever. She dropped down in front of him, noting with distant disdain that he flinched.

"Listen closely," she snarled. "If you ever give Dam another egg, I'll kill you. She doesn't deserve children to turn into obedient little tools."

"If I do not try, she will kill me," he objected.

"Possibly. But I'll definitely kill you if I ever find out another daughter of hers wound up with Claw." She noted her Sire's guilty look. "And I'm taking Silva away from here. You get one chance. Don't mess it up. I'm scarier than Dam could ever be, and you don't even want to know what my friends could do to you." Storm could help.

"Okay..." her Sire looked even guiltier now. "I am sorry."

"You always are, at least to whoever scares you the most," Pearl sighed. There was nothing more to be said. She jumped down from the boulder and made her way through the valley. It was time to check up on Silva and get her safely away from the valley. Then she could find Storm, and they could leave for now. What they would do next really wasn't clear.

Then, right before she reached the dark side of the valley, a dragon she recognized rushed up to her. "Crystal?"

"Pearl!" Crystal sounded immensely relieved. "Good to see you."

"And you," Pearl replied. "How are you?" Crystal had been a friend, at least. One of the few people here she both knew personally and liked.

"Better now," Crystal whispered. "Storm is with you, right? She is trustworthy?"

Pearl nodded. "She is. Why-"

"Storm says to tell you to take Silva, if you have not already, and for you and Ember to meet her on last night's ledge. She is already there." Crystal looked down guiltily. "Take care of them, okay?"

"Of who?" But Crystal had already faded into the crowd. Was she speaking of Silva? But Silva was one dragon, and Crystal had said 'them.' Silva and Storm? Well, Storm could be impulsive. Maybe that was it.

That simplified things. Pearl wound her way into the shaded section of the valley, though that name was still inaccurate, given the day remained overcast.

Once inside, she just followed the high-pitched giggling emanating from deeper within. That was a sound probably never before heard here, especially given this was also where they kept their dead, after sending them off. She had never noticed that as a fledgling, but the skeletons in corners and under overhangs were obvious and recognizable now.

Turning a corner, she almost stepped on them. Ember, in his No-scaled-not-prey form, was sitting on the ground, playing some little game with Silva.

She stopped to watch, unseen by Silva. Ember smiled, his eyes glancing up at her for a moment.

Silva set a paw on the ground, her other raised. Ember put one of his slender paws, what he called hands, face-up under her paw, touching the pad.

They didn't move for a moment. Then Ember's paw flipped out from under Silva's and swatted at the air where her paw had been. She had yanked it back just in time. She giggled.

Then they put their paws back in position. Ember flipped his again almost immediately, and Silva barked in surprise when he swatted the top of her paw.

That seemed to be the extent of the game. It was simple, but apparently entirely engrossing to Silva, who never failed to laugh or bark depending on the outcome.

She watched for a while, not willing to disrupt the scene, but there was some small chance someone would stumble upon them, so she did have to intervene eventually. "Silva, is he fun?" That was said teasingly for Ember's benefit.

"Really fun!" She nudged Ember and purred, before doing the same to Pearl. "Can I keep him? Dam no need to know. He can stay here. I bring him fish."

"He has to leave with me," Pearl admitted. "Silva, are you happy here?" She didn't really think there would be a positive answer to that, but it was better to do this in a certain way. She would not make choices for her little sister as everyone had for her.

"Well... this is fun..." Silva looked down. "Dam not let me play with boys. The girls say Dam is mean. They get to play with boys." She looked up at Pearl. "Can you make Dam let me play with them?"

Pearl whined, impressed by Silva's control over her speech, but saddened by the request conveyed. "I can't make Dam do that. But I can take you somewhere new, where Dam doesn't get to say who you play with." Among other things.

Silva considered that. "Will boys be there?"

"A bit older than you, but yes. Everyone will play with you there." Much older, but still. Silva needed to know that this was a good option.

"And no Dam?" Silva sounded pleased by that. "How long?"

"As long as you want," Pearl answered truthfully. "At least until you're an adult. I can't let you come back here before then." She would take absolutely no chances.

Ember watched on in silence, his eyes approving Pearl's actions. That was all the support she needed.

"Can I?" Silva did not sound excited so much as hopeful. "You nice, and he fun." She prodded at Ember. "Whatever he is."

"Yes, you can." Pearl felt nothing but relief. "How should I carry you when we fly?" Silva was small enough to pick up by the scruff, but that was not an enjoyable way to spend long periods of time.

"Pearl, if I ride you I can hold her," Ember suggested.

That distracted Silva. "He makes noise. Fish not do that."

"He's talking," Pearl revealed with a smile, amused by her sister's utter amazement, signified by a limp tail and wings along with wide eyes. "He says he can carry you when I carry him out of here on my back. Or I can carry you by the scruff. We're not going far today."

"He can carry me!" Silva yelped, jumping into Ember's arms. "I hate scruff carrying."

Ember stood with a smile. "I guess that's settled." He awkwardly situated himself on Pearl's back.

She lifted off as gently as possible and soared directly for the gap between mountains. They never looked back on the pack and its valley.

She had failed, and the best plan they now had was more of this. Kidnapping fledglings and stealing eggs. It wasn't a satisfactory solution long-term.

At the moment though, it felt great. Pearl would have loved to just be plucked out of her life at that age, carried off to a better home. She was making that unrealized dream come true for another in an identical situation. That alone was worth coming back for. The fact that it was her little sister was just a bonus, if a big one.

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl glided into a stop at the far side of the ledge, staring the whole way. "What did you do?"

Storm shrugged, curled up around a pale egg, a white tail poking out from under her grey and blue wing. "Crystal begged me to take them."

"So that's what she meant," Pearl realized. Crystal had said to take care of them. Now that made sense.

"She did not tell you?" Storm laughed quietly, unwilling to disturb the hatchling. "She is a bit scatterbrained, though also so stressed I cannot blame her."

Pearl let Ember off, and Ember let Silva down in turn. She walked right over to Storm and began licking her wing.

Storm looked over at her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning you. You dirty!" Silva growled in frustration, licking harder. "Why it not gone?"

Pearl laughed. "That's her color, Silva. She was hatched that way."

"Oh," Silva yawned. "So she clean?"

"Yes, I am clean already," Storm agreed, lifting a wing. "Come here and sleep." Her voice was soft, at odds with her usual tone.

"Okay," Silva warbled weakly, crawling in to curl up beside the male hatchling, apparently too tired to realize that one of the ones she never got to play with was right next to her. She was snoring softly within seconds, and Storm lowered her wing.

Ember shifted, still staring at Storm. "So..."

"So we have a very tricky trip home to plan," Storm answered testily. "I do not want to be flying over the ocean when these hatchlings get too big to easily carry in our mouths or on our backs. We cannot waste time."

"But we need to figure out what we're going-" Pearl was cut off by a genuine laugh from Storm. "What?"

"My plan is officially not happening," Storm explained through chuckles, "because it would interfere."

"With what?" Pearl warbled questioningly.

"There is a group of females who plan to tear the customs down and kill Claw afterward," Storm revealed smugly. "Led by Lily. They can do it in time. Lily is smart and determined. I could tell that almost immediately." Her voice was downright admiring. Pearl didn't even want to know how hard and ruthless Lily was now for Storm to approve so obviously.

"So..." Pearl began, not sure what to say.

"So," Ember finished, "we're done here? They've got the rest of the job handled?"

"And they are making sure Claw never touches a fledgling," Storm confirmed.

"My Dam isn't having any more eggs anyway," Pearl sighed. "It's good that Claw will be watched, but I think my Dam was the only one actively encouraging his depravity."

"How did you manage that?" Ember hesitated. "Did you kill her?"

"What?!" Pearl barked. "No! I just... might have promised to kill my Sire if he gave her any more eggs."

"That's not much better!" Storm barked out in amusement, before wincing and looking down. Satisfied that she hadn't disturbed anyone, she continued, "but he will hold to it out of fear if what you told me is right. Well done."

"So we can just go home." A questioning warble from Ember. "But should we? This feels like running away from responsibility, in a way."

"Regardless of whether it is, we have to," Storm growled softly. "We have three reasons to go home right now."

"And no reason to come back immediately," Pearl added softly. "I'm an outsider. You two are even more obviously outsiders. They won't listen to us, and by the time we can come back, they'll know we 'stole' Silva and another hatchling, as well as an egg. The only one they won't attack on sight is Ember-"

"Who they will 'attack' in another way, and still see as an outsider," Storm concluded. "We are done here. The only reason I am not bothered by that is that there are others already carrying on the fight."

"Others… you are sure these light wings have this in paw?" Ember sounded worried.

"As sure as anyone can be on a first impression." Storm shrugged her wings. "There is a whole group of them, and they are not outsiders. The leader seems strong and intelligent. They will do fine."

"It's not my fight any more, whether or not I want it to be," Pearl admitted. "We really are done here." She sounded more tired than anything.

"And you're okay, Pearl?" Ember asked. "Today was probably stressful. I didn't get to see much more than your fight."

"I pretended I was Storm, and that worked out great," Pearl admitted. "I was more angry than anything. Now I'm just tired."

"Well, I would offer you a place under my wing, but that spot is occupied," Storm quipped. She looked quite smug about Pearl admitting to emulating her.

"So I will," Ember continued, laying down and raising a wing. He looked at her expectantly.

"For a few minutes," she conceded, seeing how inviting that looked. She quickly snuggled up next to her mate, and he draped his wing over her. Yes, this was good. A few minutes...

O-O-O-O-O

Ember purred as his mate fell asleep almost as quickly as her little sister had. She was tired, emotionally and physically. But she was strong. So strong.

"She did good," Storm said aloud. "Claw will be whining for moon-cycles, not even counting his tail."

"I think I'm to blame for that," Ember mused. "Do it once as punishment, and suddenly it's a pretty good choice. Painful but not fatal, grounding but not permanent. A visible marker that won't go away for a long time."

"By the way," Storm added, "I might be the replacement Dam of these two," and with that, she nudged the egg and gestured towards the little male hatchling, "but we share the work."

"Of course," Ember conceded, surprised Storm so readily accepted that she'd be the primary caregiver. She must have promised something like that to Crystal. "We'll all help. Once we get home there will be enough of us for it to be easy."

"But we have to get home first," Storm muttered. "With two hatchlings and an egg. Which, now that I think about it, could hatch now, two days from now, or a moon-cycle from now. Crystal never told me how far along it was." An annoyed growl. "Or her hatchling's name. I will have to come up with another."

"A surprise," Ember agreed, referring to the egg. "And the trip home will be an adventure."

"No, the surprise will be when we do get home," Storm griped. "I cannot wait to explain to Dam that I adopted two light wings but still do not have a mate." She looked down at the male under her wing. "And he will not be an option, because I will be his replacement Dam," she moaned. "Life hates me."

"You can still come back here in ten or eleven season-cycles," Ember reminded her. "Once their population balances out a little, there will be available males who might want to look outside the nest." Assuming Lily and her group of conspirators succeeded.

"Yes, because a single parent of two grown Furies is so attractive to suitors," Storm growled.

"I resemble that remark," Ember noted, half-joking. "You'll be mysterious and exotic. I don't think you'll have many issues."

"Exotic?" Storm purred. "I like that."

"But yes," he returned to the original remark Storm had made, "getting home will be quite the surprise for everyone else." Especially given that unless Thorn spread the word, three-fourths of the family waiting for them had no idea where they had gone.

"If we make it home." Storm rumbled sleepily. "It is not even midday. Why am I tired?" She sounded quite annoyed.

"Controlling your rage takes a lot out of you?" Ember guessed.

Storm laughed. "That reminds me. I will tell you just how good my self-control is later." She closed her eyes, not sleeping, just resting. She was likely to need her energy for the trip back.

Her last remark seemed like it had a story behind it. Ember was glad he had come, even if all he had ended up doing was playing with Pearl's little sister and spying from afar. They hadn't needed him, precisely...

But they definitely did for the trip home. It would be impossible for them to transport three hatchlings or even two and an egg with only two dragons.

He knew hatchlings, having raised two of his own. This wouldn't be so much difficult as tiring and boring. The trip home was going to be very dull. At least there would be some excitement at the end of the journey.

The real end. There were no more loose ends, save for Storm and Valka, both of which were straightforward, a long trip in the far future and short visits in the near future. Doable, predictable. As opposed to... all of this.

But he definitely didn't mind all of this either.

**_Author's note:_ ** **Just the epilogue and a little bonus before this story is over, but guess what? I just finished the first draft to the next entry to this universe,** **_Usurpation of the Darkness._ **

**Of course, there are a few differences between that story and this one that I may as well touch on here. First and foremost, that story is LONG. It's slower-paced, but absolutely massive in terms of what it covers. How massive? The first draft is about 450,000 words, over the course of 70 chapters. It was a huge undertaking, and even more so than those numbers above indicate, for reasons that will become clear later.**

**Second, (the numbering system, not the dead dragon), it will be M-rated. Upon completing the story, I believe I could probably just barely squeak by with a T rating if I wanted to, but I'm going to err on the side of M in this case. I don't do explicit scenes, but that kind of thing becomes more integral to the story than I would be comfortable with rating as a T.**

**But why, some might ask, would it be so integral? Allow me to give you a hint. Lily is the protagonist, and we're going back in time a bit to start this new story. Now think about where she is now, in this chapter, and the fact that it's all going to be from her perspective, and I think you'll get the idea.**

**More details don't really seem to be necessary right now; that story will begin quite soon. This story will be updating again on Sunday with the epilogue, and then the following Saturday with the extra entry, and the first chapter of** **_Usurpation of the Darkness_ ** **will go up at the same time.**

**I should also note here that I am looking for a beta reader for** **_Usurpation of the Darkness_ ** **, though I do not need one to consider it ready to go. The story will post regardless of whether I find one.**


	33. Epilogue

**_Author's Note:_ ** **I'm back! Into wifi range, I mean. This chapter might raise as many questions as it answers, but that's intentional.**

The wind blew through the trees overhead, shaking branches, a few leaves falling. The Furies had left to look for Storm at the beginning of Winter, and now it was nearing Winter again. The forest was mostly quiet.

Mostly.

"I am starting to worry about them," Spark noted.

Beryl snorted. "You said that yesterday." His brother was persistent if nothing else. "Focus."

"But why have they been gone so long?" Spark reluctantly glanced at the ground, looking for tracks, before his eyes trailed right back to Beryl.

"I don't know, but Thorn says they won't be back at least until the start of Fall." Beryl pawed at a few orange leaves on the ground. "Any day now is when we can start expecting them."

He personally wasn't as serene as the front he presented, but that was not exactly aimed at the absence so much as Thorn. She was stubborn in refusing to say where Ember, Pearl, and Storm had gone, insisting that it was Pearl's story to tell.

That alone told him almost nothing, as Pearl had never said anything that could pertain to a trip. She was the only one of their group whose life story Beryl didn't know to some degree. Given they had spent days in the air, that spoke of stories she would not want to tell. At least when Ember got back he could say.

When he got back, he would also be with Pearl. That was going to be odd. Beryl was all for it in how it pertained to Ember, but thinking that Pearl was going to be on some level above him in authority, as the mate of his Sire, felt intrinsically wrong, or maybe just strange.

Then again, she had always been slightly aloof from Spark and himself. Not much would change on that front. Beryl brought his attention back to the ground. "Not many tracks."

"I know," Spark griped. "We have been looking for weeks and hunting nothing. Why are we doing this again?"

"Herb says every ten season-cycles we stop hunting the deer in this forest for two season-cycles," Beryl said, informing his brother once again. Spark had definitely heard this before. "I'm checking to see how many are around." It was an interesting task, and a complex one. Basically, a way to burn time that might otherwise be spent waiting. Whenever he began to feel antsy, this was something that could take his mind off of the absence.

Or it would if Spark did not keep bringing up the exact topic he was trying to forget.

Maybe he should change the subject. "Do you think we'll go back to the ice nest next summer?" That had been a fun little trip.

"Definitely," Spark asserted happily. "Living in a massive mound of ice is great when it is hot out."

Beryl couldn't argue that. It was also nice to see other kinds of dragons for a while... and only for a while. He had realized, by the end of their relatively short stay, that most of the other kinds of dragons did get on his nerves. It was a fact that faded from his mind after long enough away. Short trips were the best of both worlds. Valka had been happy to see them too.

"And next Summer Ember can come too," Spark continued... bringing the conversation right back around to their Sire. Again.

There was no way that was a coincidence. Beryl stopped walking. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Spark asked innocently. Too innocently.

"You know very well what." Now, what was Spark's endgame here? His brother wasn't normally this subtle to start with.

"What?" Spark looked away from Beryl's glare. " I am worried, that is all."

"So?"

"We should go looking-"

And there it was. Beryl snorted. "No. Not happening. Last time we went looking was because Storm was late by a full season. We're not even going to consider going out to look for them until at least Winter." If they did have to look... Beryl was not anticipating another Winter adventure. That was a time of year best spent at home. Besides, Ember was more than capable of getting everyone back safely, so to go looking before he was even supposed to return would be a waste of time.

"But it will be Winter," Spark whined. "I do not want to go out in that weather. We could get a head start."

"Not happening, brother." That was the end of the discussion. Beryl turned his mind back to the forest around them. He had a question he wanted to answer. How many deer were there now? If he could count them with any accuracy each year, he might be able to determine whether this ten and two rotation was viable long-term.

Sitting around inside for a moon-cycle when Stoick and Gobber often spoke of rationing and livestock might have given him the inspiration for this project. It was interesting, at least, and if it turned out a ten-two ratio wasn't enough downtime, it might make sure that they had deer to hunt in the future.

Then something hit him, and he groaned. That rotation applied... when there were two dragons culling the herd. Now there would be at least seven. Simple logic said that more dragons eating meant faster depopulation, which was going to mean more downtime to allow the herds to recover... or a limit on how much their entire family hunted per season.

It wasn't a lack of food overall if that was the case, as they had limitless fish from the ocean, but as he was beginning to prefer deer when he could get it, it was annoying.

A strange sound was heard in the distance. A deer? There weren't any other large creatures around here. Spark's head snapped around to face the direction the sound had come from. Yes, there was something in that area.

Well, they were out here because they were bored. He and his brother loped silently towards the sound by unspoken agreement.

They heard it again, louder this time. Beryl slowed and stared at his brother, who met his look with one of equal confusion.

Why were there high-pitched giggles emanating from behind a tree?

"No-scaled-not-prey?" Spark asked dubiously. "Dragons do not fit behind trees."

"Maybe," Beryl conceded. "But there aren't any around here."

"Well you two have not gotten any brighter," a sarcastic voice commented. Beryl whirled to see Storm standing behind them.

"Storm?" Spark was a bit slower on the uptake.

"No, Second," Storm griped. "Yes, it is me."

"Then who is over there?" Spark asked, pointing with a raised paw. "Ember does not giggle, and Pearl is too big to hide there."

"Thunder, Lightning!" Storm called out.

"Thor?" Beryl finished in utter confusion, making a random connection to something Ember had once mentioned in passing. He wasn't operating at peak efficiency at the moment, so confused it hurt to think.

"What?" Storm looked at him as if he was an idiot. Two Light Fury fledglings darted out from behind the tree to stand by her obediently.

That really wasn't helping Beryl's confusion, and from the utterly confounded expression on Spark's face, he wasn't doing any better.

"So... you found a mate?" Spark guessed slowly.

"Nope." Storm began walking towards the cave, the Light Furies trailing her. One looked back and stuck its tongue out at them both.

Another glance was exchanged between the brothers. "Pearl and Ember's?" Beryl called out in desperation.

"Also no!" Storm yelled back, her voice gleeful. She was enjoying this. Her trio of Furies disappeared between the trees.

"They were called Thunder and Lightning," Spark noted. "Storm definitely named them."

"Or it's a coincidence," Beryl countered.

"Why are we standing here when we could be finding out?" Spark asked after a moment. It was a good question. Why were they?

Beryl thought about it. "I think we're waiting to catch up to her right as she sees Thorn, that way we aren't the ones asking." Storm would mess with them, but she probably wouldn't mess with Thorn.

"Good idea." Spark shifted on his paws.

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

"Now?" Spark flicked his tail impatiently.

"Now," Beryl agreed, and they both bolted for home, slaloming between trees and jumping bushes. He noticed a few deer startled into panicked runs by their passing, but that project was on hold until later. Much later, if Ember and Pearl were also back.

O-O-O-O-O

Earlier that day, Pearl, Ember, and Storm had set down the moment they reached land, and let their young charges go do their business.

"Just in time," Storm groaned. "I do not want to be carrying Lightning in my mouth the day she cannot hold it." Lightning, as Storm had named the little female who hatched two weeks into the trip, was listening. She shook her head expressively, her yellow eyes staring.

"I held it," she complained. "You said I not have to hold it long."

"I lied," Storm replied candidly. "You would not have bothered trying to hold it if I told you today's flight was a long one."

Pearl snickered at the disgruntled expression on Lightning's face. Storm's method of child-rearing was entertaining. She pulled no punches and softened nothing. It seemed to be producing fledglings as sarcastic and blunt as she was. Thunder, despite living the first moon-cycle of his life with his real Dam, Crystal, had taken to Storm's ways just as completely.

"Done?" Pearl asked Silva.

"Done," Silva confirmed. "We there soon?"

"Are we going to be there soon," Pearl corrected. "You know how to talk properly." Silva was at that tricky age where she knew all the in-between words but didn't see the point in using them. The problem was only made more difficult by Thunder and Lightning, who weren't that age yet and only knew the basics. Silva saw no reason to bother if her friends didn't.

"Are we?" Silva asked with a growl.

"Yes," Ember replied. "Soon."

"How soon?" was the direct follow-up, as Silva hopped onto Ember's back and pounced on his ears. "Today?"

"Yes," Pearl answered with a purr. "Today." Given Silva had asked that once a day for the last week, it was nice to be able to finally say yes to that. Ember had told her he recognized this coast as being close to home.

Strange, to call somewhere she had never been home, but if it was where Thorn, Herb, and the others lived, then that was the only name she could put to it. Home.

"I no want ride," Thunder complained. "Walk?" He met Storm's eyes with a sad stare, his cobalt-blue against the teal of his adoptive Dam's.

Storm blinked. "Yes, as long as you are not planning on complaining about your paws hurting five minutes in." She gathered Thunder and Lightning in front of her, staring them both down. "Do not wander off."

"Yes Dam," they replied in unison. That was also funny, given Storm had probably never been so obedient in her own youth. She taught rebellion... against anyone but herself.

Silva watched as Storm took her playmates into the forest. "Do we have to walk?"

"Do you want to?" Pearl personally would prefer to get to their home as fast as possible. This trip had been a long one, and she was tired. Letting Thorn and Herb take care of her fledgling sister for a while would be nice.

"Let's fly so we get there quicker," Ember suggested, echoing Pearl's thoughts almost exactly. "There are people there who are waiting for us."

"Okay Ember," Silva agreed, still chewing on his ears with her toothless gums.

With that, they lifted into the air, though Ember had to fly slower than normal with his passenger, who wasn't doing the best job of holding on.

Pearl winced. Silva was keeping herself aboard almost entirely by Ember's ear. That had to hurt, but Ember didn't complain. They really must be close. Especially if Storm thought her hatchlings could make it on foot. Hatchlings did not travel far on their own.

"There it is," Ember sighed. "Home. That cave, there." It was small, Pearl noted, at least in entrance size, but there were other caves around that looked unused. They could spread out. Would have to spread out. There were also interesting rock formations that looked like sea stacks had forgotten where they were supposed to be... and in one case fallen over.

"When did that fall?" Pearl asked. "It doesn't look so old." Were the other rock spires unsafe?

"That's the sea stack Herb and Thorn knocked down after... the attack," Ember explained, choosing his words carefully because of his passenger. "They take a lot of force to topple."

"Oh, okay." That was good then. There was soft grass and open areas, but the general area around the caves and the clearing between them was hemmed in by the sea on three sides and a small bluff on the other. As long as a fledgling knew not to go in the water, which looked fairly shallow by the shore anyway, there was no easy way out into the wild forest beyond. It would be safe to let Silva and the others wander a bit with only moderate supervision, even at this young age.

"Can you roar?" Ember began circling downward. "I'd rather not with my passenger."

"Roar!" Silva squeaked, chewing vigorously. "Roar!"

Ember winced. "No, I think I'm setting you down as soon as possible."

"I've got it." Pearl roared a sound of greeting. There was a reply from the cave, and Thorn appeared at the mouth, followed by Herb. They both watched happily as she and Ember landed.

Thorn spoke first. "She seems a bit old. You two got straight to work, it seems."

Pearl laughed. "Yes, but she's my little sister, not my daughter." She and Ember had been holding off on that too, once they realized an egg on the trip would be a disaster. She was ready to get back to that endeavor, now that they could offload Silva every once in a while.

"Oh." Thorn seemed at a loss for words. "So..?"

"It went well, though not as planned. I just didn't want to leave her with my Dam," Pearl admitted. "Soon enough Claw will fall, and with him the customs of the pack. There are dragons working on it as we speak." That felt a lot better than admitting that she had failed in her own attempt. Thorn and Herb would get the whole story later when there weren't any fledglings around to hear.

"So you are Pearl's sister," Herb mused, nosing at Silva, who had gotten off of Ember and walked up to him. "What are you called?"

"Silva," she chirped. "Will you play with me?" The same question she had asked every single new dragon she met. Herb did not disappoint, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

"Of course!" Then he crouched. "If you can catch me!" He began running away, moving slowly enough that Silva could keep up. She roared and followed, laughing as she went.

Thorn purred at the sight. "He was looking forward to that. So should we be expecting more hatchlings soon?"

"Hopefully, if we can get time away from Silva to try," Pearl replied somewhat self-consciously. "Your help would be appreciated."

"Oh, I was planning on that," Thorn reassured her. "You will have all the time you want. I know what it is like to raise a hatchling."

Pearl hesitated. "Actually…" Something she had been considering was looking like a good idea now. "Would you and Herb take over with Silva?"

Thorn's eyes widened. "Us?" She sounded confused.

"She's my sister," Pearl explained, "and I don't want to be her replacement Dam. That's just too confusing." Ember had agreed that it might make things difficult later on, so she was speaking for both of them.

Thorn nodded. "You trust us with that?"

"That's a silly question," Pearl purred. "I can think of no one better to raise a fledgling. You did well with Ember and Storm." Despite Storm's rather blunt personality, she was good at heart, and it showed.

"Then if Herb agrees," Thorn said, glancing at her mate, who was still playing with Silva, "which I think he will, we can take her on." Thorn purred quietly. "Somehow, I keep ending up with more children. Not that I am complaining. On that note, where is Storm?" She looked around worriedly. "You did not leave her with the Light Furies, did you?"

"No, she's just coming in on foot, through the forest." Pearl had assured Storm that she wouldn't spoil the surprise. Two mini-Storms-in-training were best explained by example anyway.

"Why would she do that?" After a moment, Thorn wilted. "Unless she found no one but expected to, and does not want to be here to hear my congratulations to you two."

It was much harder not to correct that, but Pearl held her tongue, and luckily Ember did the same.

Pearl saw Storm standing on top of the ledge that from the inside blocked exiting on foot. "There she is."

Thorn turned around. "Storm! Welcome home." Her voice was consoling.

Storm sighed. "I am not sure if I should stay. I might be a burden."

Pearl held in a snicker. Storm was going to play this for all it was worth.

"You are no burden, daughter," Thorn quickly said, sounding extremely sad. "You-"

Beryl and Spark dropped in from the air, having come from the same direction as Storm. Spark looked around. "So where are the mini-Storms?"

Of course, Spark would come up with the exact same nickname Pearl used in her own head. That was great. Now she could say it out loud and blame Spark for starting it! She chuckled at the exasperated look on Storm's face.

"Mini... Storms?" Thorn had caught on that something was amiss. "Daughter, get down here!"

"Spoilsport," Storm snarled at Spark. "You have earned yourself a week of hatchling-watching-duty." She spread her wings to reveal a hatchling on either shoulder and glided down. "Dam, I might have picked up some responsibility by accident."

Thorn took in the two Light Furies. "Is their Sire about to swoop in?"

"No, and their Dam is not here either," Storm replied solemnly. "She begged me to take them. It is still not safe there, and she was not sure they could put an end to certain things before these two came of age."

"You our Dam," Lightning objected. Herb, who had been watching from nearby, froze. Thorn did too.

Storm took in their expressions and laughed. "One of your Dams. Your real Dam is not here. You are stuck with me." She playfully shook them off, cushioning their simultaneous falls with her wings. "Go get into trouble."

With that, the hatchlings bumbled off in opposite directions.

Thorn's mouth was hanging open. "You... They... get into trouble?" she finished weakly.

Beryl groaned. "This is going to be fun."

"Yup," Storm replied with a purr. "They know what that means."

"Storm is an interesting Dam," Ember put in with a sly grin. "They take after her attitude."

That prompted looks of horror on the faces of both Beryl and Spark.

Beryl summed it up. "Storm has minions?"

That did it. Pearl burst out laughing at about the same time as Ember and Storm. Everyone else followed, including Silva, who had no idea what was going on, busy play-fighting Herb's tail. Lightning and Thunder stared at Beryl and Spark respectively, unimpressed.

"We have a lot to tell," Ember began. "But it's good to be back."

"You were gone long enough," Spark agreed. "It has been almost a full season-cycle since you were last here."

"A lifetime for me as I'm just now seeing this place for the first time," Pearl said quietly. "I like it here." She did. Home was where family was.

Ember, first and foremost. Her mate. He was here, walking towards Beryl.

Beryl. Whatever he and Spark were in relation to her, they were family too.

Silva. She was definitely family in all definitions of the word, even the most specific.

Storm. A sister of sorts, if a different kind. A role-model, so an older sister, maybe?

Thunder and Lightning. The most tenuous connection, technically the children of a childhood friend, now raised by her honorary sister. Still family. Storm was going to take them with her when she returned in a decade or so to look for a mate and to meet their Dam, but they would still be family even then.

Thorn and Herb. She could call them her replacement Sire and Dam, but that implied her original Sire and Dam had been parents in truth at some point in time. Her Sire and Dam on Ember's side. That was the truth. It was enough. More than enough.

Looking around, Pearl was happy. This was an insane, complicated mess of a family... and it had more love for its members than her entire pack did. Here were people who repeatedly risked their lives, ignored custom, or killed to protect each other. Her pack didn't do that. These dragons did.

She would be happy to raise children of her own in company like this if she could. And if she could not, if her luck with Claw turned out to be a misfortune with Ember, then she could follow Thorn's lead, and she would still be happy.

She wondered, for a brief moment, about the pack she had left behind. Would Lily, Crystal, and the others succeed? Was it possible?

That wasn't her part to play, but she still cared. When Storm went back, maybe they could make it a family trip. Pearl would like to see what her pack could become when people cared and tried to fix things.

Ten season-cycles from now, or longer. That was a long time. But she knew in her heart that the seasons would fly by.

**_Author's note:_ ** **And thus ends When Nothing Remains. I think most of these characters deserve some nice, boring peace, don't you? At least for a while.**

**On a more general note, I'm not sure if I've said it before, but this story was hard to categorize and still is. I could call it Romance, but the first third of the book is anything but. I could call it angst, but the last third is pretty happy. I could call it Adventure, but there's a lot of talking going on, and does this really count as Drama? I'm not sure. Tragedy? No, unless we look at Second, then maybe yes. Supernatural? Not really, but there is magic involved in Ember's situation, and with several key characters on both sides of the moral spectrum. Who knows how that works. Mystery? No, that one's not right, and neither is Crime (which is for some reason an option on this site despite being oddly specific), but it's an issue when you can more easily list what a story is not than what it is. The one thing you can definitely categorize this as is Family. I left Adventure because most of the story can be categorized as such.**

**Now, on to something else. This story was unique in a lot of ways, and extremely difficult to get right at some points. I have to thank a few people. First and foremost, my beta, toothlessgolfer, for helping me iron out most of the major kinks before the first chapter of this story ever saw the light of day. He won't be continuing on with beta-reading this universe, but his contribution to the first two stories was invaluable, and I thank him again here for that.**

**But this time around, he was not the only one. I want to mention a few reviewers who corrected me, intentionally or unintentionally, throughout the story. This story definitely had a few flaws neither me nor my beta caught, but you guys did.**

**TheWhisperingWarrior: Thank you for going hard on Storm and making such in-depth predictions as to what would happen next concerning her (among other things). Your reviews definitely triggered a few edits involving her arc, all of which were definitely needed in retrospect. I'm not sure if my resolution and ending lived up to your expectations, but I know your reviews helped improve the story, and I'm glad they did.**

**Fus Ro Duh: Thank you for just flat-out telling me when a chapter feels abnormally low-quality, even if you could not pinpoint why. If nothing else, that added weight to any other reviewer who pointed out flaws they saw.**

**Deadly-Bagel: Specifically, thank you for pointing out that the reunion scene was a little too low-quality, and for offering suggestions as to how it might have been a bit better. I definitely needed the help on that one. Also, a special thanks for your leading questions on the nature and limitation of a Bewilderbeast-ensnared Ember. Those were helpful, especially when they pointed out possibilities I hadn't even considered.**

**And finally, though this author's note has gone on far too long, I should explain why this is not the last chapter in this story. Next week, in addition to dropping the first chapter of Usurpation of the Darkness, I shall also be putting a special not-so-little bonus entry here. Specifically, I'm going to be showing you chapters 24 and 25 (note that in my numbering, the first chapter is 0, the prologue). Not the ones you know- the first version. These two chapters were originally going to be where 24-28 are (and if you look closely you'll see the places the two different versions of the finale on Viggo's island deviated, and at the end where they converged). And when I say 'originally' I actually mean 'up until a few weeks before 24 was set to be posted, they were the only version and what I planned to put up.' The 24-28 you have now were all written less than two weeks in advance of posting, because I had a brainwave as to how much better that part of the story could be, and could not bear to leave it as is. So you have that look at how things could have gone to wait for.**


	34. Deleted Scenes

_**Author's Note:** _ **The first chapter of** _**Usurpation of the Darkness** _ **is now up; that story can be found on my profile. But for those of you not quite ready to begin a new story, I do have something.**

**Several somethings, actually. First, this one. Remember the chapters 25, 26, 27, 28, and 29? Those were written almost six months after the rest of the story, because they replaced a mere two chapters covering the same set of events (more or less). Those original two chapters were not** _**bad** _ **, but as I looked back at them, I could not truly call them good, either.**

**So, in the spirit of showing the writing process, here are the contents of the two chapters I scrapped. I'll be leaving in just enough of the front and end for you to see where I began to cut things, and both chapters will go here so that I don't inflate my chapter count. Enjoy! (If you can. By the very nature of why you did not see these in the first place, you might not.)**

O-O-O-O-O

Pearl opened her eyes slowly, feeling as if her head had been struck with a heavy rock.

' _You are mine. No tricks this time.'_

No, she was not. Let him see all of her pain, all of the horror that was her past! She shoved those memories at the tendrils, and the tendrils accepted them.

There was no relief.

'This time I am ready. Your agonies do not hurt me. But I can hurt you with them. Submit.'

No. She wouldn't give over any control of her life to this alpha! She had lost enough of her life to the first!

' _I can make you relive them. It is easier to control with happy memories and easiest when subjects listen willingly, but I can make your life an endless replay of those season-cycles. Submit, or be left to this alpha male over and over again, for as long as you live. I win either way.'_

She trembled at that promise. It was too sure to be a threat. Could she bear that? To be locked into those memories, while her body did as told anyway? She didn't have a choice.

Storm came to mind, looking confused. There was always the choice to defy. To take control. She just wasn't looking for it.

No, Pearl decided angrily. Let the alpha do his worst! There was nothing in those memories she had not survived the first time around. She would not give in.

' _Very well.'_

But nothing happened. Had she called his bluff?

Then sight returned, hearing returned, and the alpha snapped the connection. The world was shaking, her ears hurting. Sound was vibrating around her. She curled up into a small circle, trying to block out the horrible roar that shook the sky itself.

A roar of pain, she noted distantly. Had that No-scaled-not-prey or Ember somehow done it?

The roar tapered off, and a thud shook the ground. Pearl stood, and noticed that the Bewilderbeast was no longer standing.

Somehow. His mind was fading, the mental pulse too weak to control now. Pearl could literally feel the life leaving the bad alpha. It was not a good feeling, but she could ignore it.

She took stock of where she was. An empty street, an angry figure howling a few dozen feet away-

Wait, what? She shook her head, but the vision remained. The dark No-scaled-not-prey who had killed Gold stood in front of her, that terrible cloak spattered with fresh blood, howling in denial.

Ha! She laughed, scorning his frustration. The Bewilderbeast was dying, and no amount of complaining in his hoarse voice would change that.

Her laughter drew his attention. He turned to face her, his eyes murderous. "You."

"Me," she chirped and spread her wings to fly. This one could die here, but she didn't need to fight him.

Then something poked at her mind. Would she never fight for herself? Never do anything directly? She had to face Claw some day soon. This would be practice. Good practice.

It was foolish, but it felt like something Storm would do. That meant it was a good idea. Pearl refolded her wings and crouched, snarling. This bad alpha would fall to her. She would avenge Gold, however little he deserved vengeance.

Drago pointed his weapon at her. "I will take your life, as I should have. Fly away." He grinned. "Or fight?"

Pearl very deliberately blasted the wall of a nearby building and rubbed her side against the flames. This was something she had never tried before, but she had thought of it, when pondering how one such as herself could challenge Claw and win, when so many others had failed.

Her hide flickered and vanished, in places. In the places that were hot enough. She had not heated all of herself, so random spots flickered in and out of sight as the heat spread and faded to different places.

She was not just invisible now, she was a constantly flickering patchwork of white and clear. An illusion.

Drago hesitated as she stalked towards him. "Clever."

"Enough to kill you," Pearl snarled. She pounced, blasting at his terrible face as she did.

Drago twisted, catching the blast on his cloak-shrouded arm, a strange ringing resounding as it impacted, and swung his bullhook.

Pearl howled as it cut across her chest, barely missing her neck, a long diagonal gash that was wide and painful. She crumpled from the shock, not even making it to Drago.

A heavy boot pinned her head to the ground. Drago laughed scornfully, raising his bullhook. "Not clever enough."

O-O-O-O-O

Thorn leaped from rooftop to rooftop, seeking her daughter and Pearl. She quickly found Storm, who joined her in that search. But where was Pearl?

They both saw it at the same time. Drago, his terrible weapon raised, Pearl about to be slaughtered. They both fired at the same time at his unprotected back. Then they rushed in, disregarding the bloody mess that now covered Pearl.

"Are you hurt?" Thorn asked frantically, licking Pearl clean and spitting out the blood and chunks of iron she picked up in the process.

"Chest," Pearl moaned, rolling over. Thorn quickly tended to the worryingly large wound there.

"Will she be okay?" Storm asked anxiously. "We still have a lot to do."

"I'll be fine," Pearl hummed, a pained whine escaping her as Thorn cleaned her wound. "Can't die and leave you to steal eggs..."

"What was that?" Thorn warbled questioningly.

"I will explain later," Storm quickly answered. "You had better not die, Pearl. Ember would be even more confused. All of your work for nothing!"

Pearl grimaced. "You've convinced me, I'll live." She rolled back onto her feet. "Thanks to both of you."

"You are still bleeding, Pearl." Thorn nodded towards the sea stack rendezvous point. "Can you make it there?"

"Barely," Pearl moaned. "Will you come with me?"

"We might need to hold you up," Storm retorted. "Yes."

With that, the three female Furies departed the fight. Thorn had faith in her mate and the others. They would be fine. She needed to get Pearl to safety.

O-O-O-O-O

Ember, having just left the Bewilderbeast's back, was already feeling the mental pressure. He knew it was going to stop soon, as the Bewilderbeast was thrashing now, but it was still painful.

Looking down on the dying monster, Ember wondered about the lesser monster safely secured among its spines. Viggo's plan was brilliant, crazy, and sadistic. The man had coldly ordered his hunter to hand over the acid, even as that same hunter dangled, slipping from Ember's grip. Viggo sold thousands of dragons without a second thought, and struck to kill without warning. It was pretty clear the man had no morals or empathy.

Viggo needed to go, if Ember could catch him after this, but Ember had balked at killing the man so soon after working with him to stop their mutual enemy.

It would be best, Ember decided, if Viggo did not survive the Bewilderbeast's death throes. Even better if his empire expired soon after.

At the moment the pressure subsided, Ember switched his attention to searching for his sons and Sire, ignoring the dying body that was crushing half of the island.

What if one or more of his family was dead beneath the body? It was a scarily likely scenario. Ember searched harder.

While he searched, he took note of the fading fighting. Bodies littered the streets, and ice blasts likely entombed many more. Drago's men were not winning.

But Viggo's men didn't seem to be winning either. The fighting was tapering off as formations broke, meeting the enemy in a decimated street... and realizing the other side had no will to fight either. An unofficial truce began to spread, as Viggo's hunters searched for wounded among the bodies, and Drago's soldiers moved back to the few ships that had survived Viggo's fire blasts.

Ember heard a Night Fury roar and dropped towards it, landing in a street to see...

His heart fell. It was Second, fighting off several hunters who hadn't yet got the notice that the fight was over. They hacked at Second, who was faltering, covered in cuts.

A quick blast scattered the hunters, who were not motivated enough to stick around when another Fury entered the fray. Ember dropped in front of Second. The two stared at each other.

"I wish to leave this place," Second growled. "Thank you for depriving me of that choice." He waved his finless tail for emphasis.

Ember felt extremely guilty. "It was that or death."

"You don't seem to understand. I would prefer death, but I cannot let myself die. Someone has to release me," Second gritted out. "Even these wounds will not end me. I have suffered worse."

"Find something else to care about," Ember offered. "You don't have to die. Just start over somewhere new on your own." Maybe even Second could turn over a new leaf.

"Too late," Second laughed. "Far too late. I don't want to start over." He looked around. "But I don't want to go back to Drago, or be a prisoner here. I'm too valuable for these men to kill, and Drago will simply punish me. Kill me." That was an order directed at Ember. "I will not let you, but you are experienced enough to best me."

"No." Ember shook his head. "I've killed enough for one lifetime. Enough for both of my lifetimes."

"Then I am going to go find someone who will," Second growled. "Trouble is attracted to you. Let me follow and fight it off."

Ember considered it. "Actually, here's what I want you to do. Find other Furies, and protect them. There should be six, counting the white one."

"They will be threatened," Second agreed. "Maybe some hunter will get lucky. I will." With that, he limped out of sight.

Was that how he had seemed to Pearl and Storm, when he had wanted to let himself die? No, he had not tried to go violently. Then again, Second had no hope. He had not lost anyone, he just didn't feel like continuing.

Ember launched back into the air, still looking for any of the others. Valka was down here somewhere too, he recalled.

Soon after, Beryl and Herb rose to meet him, Spark flying after them a moment later from another part of the island. All three were fine. Then Thorn reported back from the sea stack, confirming the whereabouts of the females, though Pearl was injured.

That worried Ember immensely, but he shoved his conflicted feelings aside. There would be time later.

The ships of Drago's that still functioned were leaving, and the island by degrees fell still, the wounded resting and the able-bodied exhausted.

Beryl brought Ember and Herb to the place he had left Valka, while Thorn and Spark went back to the sea stack to reassure Pearl and Storm.

So it was that Beryl, Ember, and Herb were the ones to drop in on a bad sight.

Valka was unconscious, her staff snapped, and the Stormcutter's cage was gone.

**This was the end of the first chapter, which would have included everything up to Pearl's moment that the final version did.**

**And now, for the second:**

Beryl rushed to Valka, while Herb and Ember considered the situation. The Stormcutter's cage was gone, and Valka was unconscious. But who would take a random dragon cage?

Not just any dragon. A Stormcutter, the likes of which Ember had never seen before, a unique kind of dragon that seemed as rare as, if not even rarer than Night Furies. It would be valuable, and there was someone here who might need that value, given his entire empire had just been destroyed, half of his island crushed by a dead body, and the other half decimated by war.

Viggo. Ember growled wordlessly, seeing scrape marks in the slush and dirt leading away from the clearing into the alleyways.

"She's breathing but not waking up," Beryl called over.

"Take her to safety," Ember ordered. "Herb and I are going to get the Stormcutter back." Too long, too many setbacks. He would wait no longer. If Viggo got away now, the game would be back on, for he could not let Valka do it alone, and she would never give up. Viggo needed to be stopped, here and now. If it was Viggo who had taken the Stormcutter.

So Ember and Herb loped along the alleyways, passing through and around wreckage that spilled into or obstructed their path.

Ember recognized one of the alleys with something approaching nostalgia. Was it here, in this alley, that he had threatened that woman because she would not move? So long ago. Not that long. This very Winter. But this Winter had lingered, lasted, dark and timeless. It should be Spring by now, but Winter had not quite let go yet.

The scrape marks were clear, and diverted around the same obstructions Ember and Herb leaped over or slalomed through. They had to be gaining, but how long ago had Viggo come this way? It had been a while since the Bewilderbeast fell.

Then they saw him, turning a corner to almost run into one of his escort, a hunter with a curiously stained sword.

That stain made Ember balk, and he obliterated the sword with a powerful blast rather than striking the hunter himself, sacrificing a guaranteed kill to rid the hunter of his weapon. There was something wrong with that sword. It was gone now though. Herb pounced and slashed, covering Ember's hesitation.

The element of surprise was gone. There were six hunters and Viggo, standing in the alley between Ember and the cage. The Stormcutter was inside, unconscious.

Viggo smiled coldly. "Ember, we meet again. With a friend. One I recall selling, actually."

Ember shifted to his human form, knowing that this standoff would only last as long as Viggo held his men back. They all had stained weapons. He did not want to risk fighting that if he could avoid it, not with Herb at his side. "I told you if I caught you again I'd kill you."

"And why is that?" Viggo spread his arms. "You are a unique opponent, one I would very much like to match wits with on a grand scale, though you might not hold a candle to some of my more skilled past enemies."

"You know, Viggo? You beat Drago." Ember took a step forward, his palms glowing, both right by knife hilts, ready the draw and throw. "Or at least held him off. But both of your forces are gone. This was not a win for either of you."

"True, but it was not a loss, and I can rebuild." Viggo stared at Ember. "You called yourself a player, but all you have done so far is aid me."

"Wrong." Ember grinned, a dark smile. He needed Viggo off-guard. "Ryker Grimborn attacked Drago's stronghold, and Drago took inspiration from the man's ranting before killing him."

"That did not happen." Viggo sounded sure. "I have eyewitness reports that a Fury killed him. Even disregarding the exaggerations-"

"Figure it out, Viggo," Ember snarled, knowing the sound was not so intimidating coming from his human throat. The flames that were steadily creeping across his chest and down his legs, covering all but his face, would do that job. "I manipulated Drago into attacking you, and I had a friend send you the warning, all so that you could eliminate his Bewilderbeast and destroy both armies in the process. I won this game."

Another step forward, and Viggo's men flinched. Ember smiled viciously. "All on a friend's behalf. Give me the Stormcutter."

"Ah, Ember." Viggo's tone was angry, and it was clear he was not happy with Ember's revelations. "You never give away your goals when they lay within your enemy's grasp." He swung his sword back and cut the Stormcutter through the bars.

That sword, Ember noted, was covered in the same wrong substance that the others were. A poison, he knew for sure now.

"An hour, for something this dragon's size," Viggo declared. "You have an hour to get me away from here, safely to a ship of mine, and to swear not to work against me. I'll give you the antidote if you do. But I am the only one who knows," he pulled three glass vials out of a pocket, "which of these cures. A single drop of either of the other two kills in seconds."

Ember waved for Herb to back down. This was not something he could risk Herb on. "Clever."

"So, deal?" Viggo grinned, seeing a victory within his grasp.

"No deal, Viggo," Ember growled, still wreathed in flames. "I do not need you alive to pull that knowledge from you." The best part was that he wasn't lying. He just needed to kill Viggo and the knowledge would be there for the taking.

Viggo faltered. "You bluff." His voice did not betray much, but the small hint of fear Ember did hear was enough.

"I had Ryker's memories and body for a while, but Drago killed them off." Ember shrugged. "I don't need to convince you, because I'm not bluffing."

Viggo took a step back. "There is only enough antidote for one. If you fight my men and are struck, the Stormcutter dies, or you do."

"If," Ember repeated. "You won't be alive to gloat about it though."

Before anyone could move, a blue blur marred with red stains and dripping blood attacked from behind, ripping into one of Viggo's hunters. Second.

Viggo turned to see the other member of his rear guard dead, and a snarling, bloodthirsty Night Fury with no tailfins lunging at him.

"No!" Ember called out, but it was already over. Second had torn Viggo's throat out and was even now engaging the last few hunters, who were getting in hits but crumpling like wet parchment as soon as Second got to them.

Ember let the flames wreathing his body dissipate, at a loss. Second faced him, panting and bleeding. There was no way the Fury had escaped the poisoned blades. He would die within an hour if he did not receive the antidote... and so would the Stormcutter.

But now there was no way to know which of the three vials lying in the mud, unbroken, was the cure. And there was only a single dose to begin with.

Second roared victoriously, glaring at Ember. "I heard all. You cannot afford to save me. Don't try." With that, he fled, stumbling over and through debris, quickly leaving the scene. To die, his own fate guaranteed by his actions.

Ember shifted back to his dragon form, frustrated. Viggo and Second had left him, by design and by rash actions, a puzzle he wasn't sure was solvable.

"What happened?" Herb asked anxiously.

"The Stormcutter is poisoned, and one of those three vials is the cure." Ember nodded to the innocent-looking glass containers. "The other two kill with a single drop, and we don't know which is which."

"A single drop?" Herb asked slowly.

"That's what he said. Almost immediately." Ember's mind was blank. How to test-

Then it hit him. "That's how." Viggo's mistake was simple. He had gone overboard in picking the poisons that were to masquerade as a cure.

Ember shifted to the third form he had acquired, that hunter from Drago's forces, and walked over to the vials, picking one up at random from the mud. It was a very good thing he hadn't thought to rid himself of this body yet.

He uncorked the vial and very carefully dropped a single drop onto his tongue, swallowing quickly. If this was the cure, he'd be fine, and if it wasn't...

His head began to spin. No, this wasn't the cure. Then, in a moment that was not painful so much as startling, his heart stopped. He could feel the absence of beating.

It was difficult to track time like that, but at some point he died and came back in his other human form. Now they were down to two vials, but he didn't have any disposable bodies.

If Second had just stuck around, Ember mused bitterly, he could have been the other test subject. The Fury would not have had an issue with an even chance of death. But he was gone, and Ember had no bodies left to sacrifice.

It was a one in two chance now, not one in three. A small simplification. Still not acceptable.

Ember cast around, checking idly to see if any of Viggo's hunters had survived Second's rampage. Maybe one of them...

No, all were most definitely completely dead. It was a morbid idea anyway. As if using himself had been any less discomforting.

He took a closer look at the two remaining vials, holding one in each hand. One was a green, clear liquid, and the other a dark, murky red. He certainly knew which one looked like it would heal. That didn't mean anything. The other liquid had been almost entirely colorless, like water.

Now what?

He had time. He could go find more hunters, kill one, and use that body to repeat his experiment. But they were scattered, and he wasn't sure he could be fast enough. Viggo had said probably an hour…

Ember realized that Viggo must have lied. Would have lied. What better way to win than to get out safely, knowing that the Stormcutter was already dead by the time Ember returned? An hour was not the true time limit. Ember didn't know how long he had.

But he knew he probably didn't have enough time to acquire another body.

Was there another answer? One that was more likely to be doable in far less time?

Poison. Thorn had dealt with poisons. What had she said? That the stuff they gave her paralyzed her and smelled like honey.

The other poison had not paralyzed, but there was no reason to think both poisons would have the same effect. Could this be...

He smelled the red liquid. Nothing. A faint bitterness, possibly.

The green liquid reeked of sweetness. Honey, as Thorn had said.

Viggo was tricky. One liquid that looked harmless, one that seemed sweet and probably beneficial, and a bitter red brew. It fit, that the red would be the cure. Sometimes medicine was bitter.

And sometimes it was sweet. Was he really going to risk the Stormcutter's life on a hint from Thorn and a guess?

No. But he could always risk his own. He still technically had one to spare… though he didn't know what losing it would do to him.

Before, when it had been an even chance, Ember would not even have considered this. But now, when he was pretty sure, but not entirely certain, the idea appealed to him.

He always risked his life on his own judgment. What was one more time?

He set the vial of green liquid down. It was the poison, he was pretty sure. Testing that would kill him, and he did still like this one-legged body.

With steady hands he dropped a single bitter drop of the red liquid on his tongue and swallowed. What had Thorn said? Paralysis and confusion? And Viggo had made a concentrated dose, for that to be immediately fatal.

A moment passed. Two. Three. More time.

Was he losing feeling in his foot? He shook it, and it began to tingle. No, that was just from standing on it for too long. He did feel tired, but he had felt tired before testing the liquid. When was the last time he had slept in this body? He had not in a very, very long time, though he had used it every once in a while. He was sleep deprived in his human form, ironically enough.

A grin stretched across his face. His deduction had been correct. This was the cure, and the green, sweet liquid the poison.

He moved to the Stormcutter and carefully pried open its large jaws, hoping there would be no instinctive snapping and tearing reaction while his hands were nearby. It had been unconscious the whole time, so he didn't know if the poison was already working or not. It didn't matter. He poured the entire vial down its throat and stepped back.

No reaction. It was possible Viggo had lied and that this would not save the Stormcutter, but Ember was pretty sure that wasn't right. Viggo had no way of knowing beforehand if he'd need the antidote for himself if an accident would result in him actually requiring a real cure. This antidote was the true answer.

The Stormcutter hiccuped and shifted in its sleep, snoring slightly. That was good enough for Ember. He walked over to the green vial, smashed it with his prosthetic, carefully wiped said prosthetic off on a patch of dry ground, and shifted back to his dragon form.

"Is all well?" Herb asked, eyeing the Stormcutter. Herb had been guarding the alleyway, and had not seen much of Ember's actions.

"Yes. I figured it out." Ember didn't mention how he had risked his human form to do so. Word might get back to Beryl, and out of all of them, Beryl would actually be more than slightly concerned. Best to leave that a harmless secret.

Herb loped off to summon Beryl, and Ember stayed with the Stormcutter's cage. His heart, however, was not in that. He only lingered because after all of that, he was not letting the Stormcutter out of his sight.

If he could have his choice, he'd be flying towards the sea stack, to find out how badly Pearl was injured. Thorn had not seemed frantic in delivering that news, but she had not dismissed it as nothing either.

Wait... the battle was over. Pearl was going to want his decision soon. And he still didn't know if he could let go, even now.

So he waited, and he thought, watching over the Stormcutter.

O-O-O-O-O

Storm was also waiting, refusing to leave Pearl's side. Not that there was anywhere to go on this deserted sea stack. Still, she could stretch her wings. Pearl was asleep anyway.

But she couldn't just leave the Light Fury here. Thorn had gone off to get fish, and Storm balked at abandoning Pearl even for a moment.

So she ignored the urge to fly and eyed Pearl's chest again, for the tenth time in the last minute. The wound had been superficial, if bloody, and while it would definitely leave quite the scar, it was already beginning to close, hours after it had been dealt out by Drago.

She purred happily at the resolution to that particular memory. That one was nothing more than a splatter of blood and charred flesh covering a good distance of ground. And metal bits, oddly. Did No-scaled-not-prey often contain metal?

Well, Ember's No-scaled-not-prey body had a metal paw. Maybe all No-scaled-not-prey did? She would have to ask at some point.

Silhouettes approached from the island. One had four wings. So that was what a Stormcutter looked like! She had actually never seen him. He had better appreciate the lengths they had gone to for him! Pearl wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him getting himself captured.

Maybe she wouldn't say that. She still hadn't fixed the last set of problems holding a grudge had caused.

Herb was one of those Furies returning. She needed to talk to him. It needed to be done soon. She and Pearl were going to leave soon, once Pearl got an answer from Ember. There was no way Storm would allow herself to leave that wrong unaddressed for the time such a trip would take. Thorn would lecture her until she was entirely grey of old age if she did.

And she thought that she could finally forgive. It had come slowly, and she had probably waited longer than necessary, but with the end of this whole mess, she wanted to put this past grievance behind her too.

Herb and the others landed on the sea stack, crowding it. Ember rushed to Pearl, quickly followed by everyone else, though as the sea stack wasn't that big they didn't have far to rush.

"How is she?" Ember asked worriedly. Could he not see the wound for himself? Then again, he was blind in many ways.

"She will live," Storm huffed. "It is not deep, and it is closing on its own."

Thorn returned bearing fish. "Oh, is she still asleep?"

"She has not woken up once," Storm reported. Now everyone was here. If they had to wait here for Pearl to recover enough to fly, she'd never get a chance at privacy.

Then again, what good was privacy anyway? She was brazen, and that extended to not caring what others thought. So, she walked right up to Herb.

He stared at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"I am a jerk for not forgiving you," Storm began, "and you are a jerk for not telling me. Can we just try again?"

"I... yes, we can." Herb inhaled. "Storm, I am not your Sire." He sighed.

"Yes you are," she chirped innocently. "Try again." This might not be the nicest way to apologize, but Herb would like the punchline of what Storm was sure everyone else saw as her just being cruel. She ignored Thorn's angry glare.

"I..." Herb wilted. "Storm, what do you want me to say? I raised you, but I'm not the one who helped make your egg."

"So?" She made her voice soft and sincere. "I do not care anymore. I say you are my Sire, and I am sorry for ever acting any differently. I should be asking for your forgiveness, not the other way around."

Herb blinked, blindsided by how quickly Storm had turned the situation from a punishment to a request for forgiveness. "I cannot blame you for that. It is my fault."

"No, it was my doing. So, I ask for your forgiveness. I am the one who dragged it out and would not let go." Storm shrugged.

"Then, of course, I forgive you." Herb embraced her, his head on her shoulder. "You meant it?"

"Of course. I say whatever comes to mind. There is no filter," Storm laughed. "If I did not mean it I would just tell you now." She saw Thorn nodding out of the corner of her eye. Well, at least Dam approved. Too bad Pearl wasn't awake to see this.

Then again, Storm planned on congratulating her honorary sister on her battle scar as soon as she was healed enough to appreciate it, so Pearl wasn't missing out on everything.

**And… cut. This would be followed by the short interlude depicting Ember's mental struggle to resolve the question, and what followed that in chapter 28. The rest of the scenes in said chapter that aren't in this one, or after Ember's interlude? Those didn't exist in the first draft.**

**Maybe it's clear now why I decided to rewrite this chunk of the story at the last minute; maybe you're surprised this was ever considered good enough, or maybe you don't think it was that bad. I'd be surprised if anyone considered it straight-out better than the five chapters that replaced it, but I suppose that too is possible. In any case, now you've seen the version I decided to scrap. This is, of course, also now the non-canon version of what happened, in case anyone is confused. What we saw in the actual story is what really happened.**

**But, on the topic of not wanting to move on just yet, or wanting more in addition to going over to** _**Usurpation of the Darkness…** _ **I did say I had** _**several** _ **somethings, didn't I? For those who didn't get my** _**Unheard Whispers** _ **hint, I will now reveal that said phrase is the title of a collection of 'in-between' scenes, one-shots, and additions to the** _**I Hear Him Scream** _ **universe, one of my all-time favorite sets of stories, and one of the biggest reasons I decided to put hands to keyboard and begin writing.**

**What do I mean by referencing that? Check out my profile, and find** _**No Story Stands Alone,** _ **which is basically the same thing for this universe. There are already two short one-shots up there, featuring, in order, Second and Storm, and many more to come, featuring everyone from Beryl to Valka (sadly, I don't have any 'W', 'X', 'Y', or 'Z' names to use, and haven't introduced the 'A' character yet, so B to V is as good as it gets here).**


End file.
